Dangerous Little Games
by amortentia1992
Summary: Voldemort may have died but the deatheaters still won the war. On the run Hermione hides in the muggle world, the recipient of creepy packages with threating messages for her future. But as she finds herself playing a dangerous game, an unlikely hero rises.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Thank you to J.K. Rowling for the wonderful world of Harry potter. Thank you to canimal for her rendition of the amazing Thorfinn of which I have been permitted to adopt for the purpose of this story.**

 **A/N: I ve wanted to do a Thorfinn/Hermione story for a while now, and have finally, finally drafted a feasible plot, though it turned out a bit darker than originally intended. I have drafted at least 5 different plots that have gone nowhere and so am happy to finally post this for you all to hopefully enjoy. I still employ my rule of don't like, don't read.**

 **Warning: This fic is going to be considerably dark in nature and in theme. It may contain triggers including: rape/ non-con and dubious consent, as well as other explicit sexual content and graphic violence and mature language. It is not intended for an audience under 18.**

~ ~ ~ _Prologue_ ~ ~ ~

Hermione sat at the table exhausted, a cup of coffee in front of her and a small package next to her. She had been receiving gifts for about three months now, always anonymous. If you could really call them gifts. Mostly they were pictures, of her or article clippings from newspapers about her. It was clear that somebody was watching her, and she wanted to know who, but was afraid at who it might be.

It had been a year since Harry had killed Voldemort, but not before the other wizard at managed to destroy the ministry. With the foundation of their world in shambles, the castle she had considered home in ruins, several friends she fought next to dead, it hadn't mattered that they head defeated Voldemort, the order had still lost the war.

The remaining order members and Dumbledore s Army participants had been forced to go into hiding. Many fled the country, like Ron who went to Romania with Ginny, and Fleur and Bill who went to France.

The members that had been unlucky enough to be captured were not sent to Azkaban or killed like many expected but placed in the care of a death eater. Lucius Malfoy, who had risen as the new world leader, insisted that any rebel caught should be given to one of his loyal comrades to be re-educated as they saw fit. For many that meant slavery and torture. For others that meant becoming a part of a harem, or worse a polygamous marriage to increase the population. It was a horrifying concept.

Hermione had chosen to leave the wizarding world when she went into hiding. She was muggle-born so she knew she could survive in the muggle world without magic, and so she had, for a whole nine months. But then the packages started, and she knew she had been found. Each package contained a photograph and a note, which had one line expressing what her stalker had planned for her.

This week's package promised that her body would bend to the will of whoever sent the note.

She now knew that if she were caught by whoever this was, that her fate involved torture, servitude, and sexual humiliation.

The weekly gifts had become a game for whoever was sending them. The game where he hunted his prey waiting until they were completely terrified before he pounced and caught them. It was a game that Hermione refused to play. She threw this gift into the flame and sipped the burning hot liquid in her favorite, purple mug.

She wouldn't give the psychopath the satisfaction of fear. She would go about her day as normal.

~ ~ ~ _Chapter One_ ~ ~ ~

"The more stubborn they are in their beliefs the longer they will be held under our care," drawled the voice of Lucius Malfoy at the monthly gathering of Lords. Malfoy had all but declared himself king, he was considered the minister, but without a court system to check his power he reigned as a dictator. Those who had been faithful to the dark lord had been rewarded with a title of lords, and Thorfinn was among them.

He felt his stomach churn as he listened to the new world leader speak.

"Your job as Lords, as esteemed members of the new order, is to re-educate the misguided notions of the rebels. Once they believe as we do, they can be given a position to hold in the world, but until then they are under our care." Continued the voice of the minister.

It had been a year since Malfoy had risen to power. In that year he had appointed a team of death eaters and snatchers to be responsible for capturing rebel forces and distributing them to deatheaters. Thorfinn was appointed with the task of moderating the progress of the captives, for lack of a better word. He worked closely with the other lords who had the responsibility of caring for them, reviewing their reports and recommendations, observing the captives himself and reporting directly to the minister his findings.

The truth was it made him sick. Thorfinn hated what the world had become to, he had blindly signed up to follow a maniac who wanted to control the world. By chance he ended up on the winning side, but he found he no longer believed in the hierarchy he once did. When the dark lord was in power he ruled his followers with fear, you served him or you died, and so it had been easy for Thorfinn to obey because it was a survival instinct. He didn t pause to think about the things he had done under orders, he completed them. And it was true that he had believed at that point that Purebloods belonged above everyone else.

Thorfinn couldn't recall when that belief had changed, there was a definite moment where it did. All he knew was in the new world order he was disgusted with the treatment of those who fought on the side of the order.

He just couldn't let it show. Malfoy may not induce fear in the hearts of his supporters, instead choosing to assume their loyalty, but Thorfinn knew that if anybody found out that he hated the new regime, and no longer believed in the hierarchy, that Malfoy wouldn t hesitate in killing him.

So he hid his true feelings under a mask of indifference and tried not to let the sight of how Dolohov treated his two wives or Draco Malfoy tortured the Longbottom boy, get to him.

It was all he could do, to keep up the facade when he sat with two other lords, Macnair and Nott Sr. in a pub after the regular mandated gathering. The two other deatheaters were discussing what they planned to do with a certain rebel when she was found. A rebel Thorfinn was all too familiar with.

Not long ago, Thorfinn himself would have wanted to subject her to humiliation, he wanted revenge for the little chit of a girl almost getting him expelled in his seventh year. Caught getting sucked off in the library by a first year of all things.

But now, now he feared for her, especially when he considered the two men plotting her demise.

"I've been sending her presents for the past three months," boasted Macnair loudly as he sipped his pint.

S"o you know where she is then?" Thorfinn inquired.

"Well, yes, I suppose I do. But I m having fun playing this little game with her. I send her a present with a note giving her a hint of exactly what I will do with her, and I ruffle her feathers, and once she right and proper terrified I capture her."

"What do you intend to do with her?" Nott spoke up suddenly. "If it were me, I d marry the girl. I already have an heir so I need not worry about reproducing with her filth, but she is a brilliant witch and she would look good in my collection."

Thorfinn held back a shudder, everybody knew what Theodore Nott did to his wives, and in the past year he had acquired two lovely half-blood brides. They had both mysteriously died. Pavarti and Lavander, if Thorfinn recalled correctly.

"No, Nott, you can t have this one as a wife. I d let you borrow her for things that you use your own wives for since we have been such friends. No, the mudblood is mine, and I m going to be her master. She will clean my floors by day, and warm my bed at night, and if she doesn t obey then she will be punished as I deem appropriate. But not until she plays my game."

"Give me one good reason I shouldn t report to the snatchers that you possess information on the location of a known rebel?" Nott sneered.

"Oh don't get put out, I said I'd share her, I just want her to last a little longer than six months, and well, your wives are not exactly known to do so now are they?" Macnair laughed.

Thorfinn instantly knew that whatever the cost, he had to find Granger and protect her from these two.

"It's a dangerous game you are playing, but fine I ll bite, as long as I get to add her to my collection at some point." Nott allowed, instantly agreeing not to get the snatchers involved and play the game.

"We have an agreement then." Walden said. "Can we trust you Rowle?"

At his name Thorfinn checked back into the conversation. "Have I ever ruined your fun before?" he remarked hotly. Let them think that he didn't care, "What is mudblood to me anyway?"

"Good man." Macnair nodded. Thorfinn finished his drink at a leisurely pace so as not to arouse suspicion. And then he bid the other lords goodnight.

He had to find her. And it was a good thing he had always been good at legilimency, he was able to penetrate the mid of a drunk Macnair effortlessly from across the pub, and pluck the location from his mind. Withdrawing from the wizards mind with just as much ease he was all the wiser and he endeavored to find the girl before she got too involved in the dangerous game Walden was creating.

She dressed for the day in a pair of dark washed denim jeans and a grey cotton jumper. The weather was still cool in the spring air, but not so cold as to need a coat. She put out the fire in the little stove that she had in the kitchen her flat.

Once she was sure the flames were properly extinguished she grabbed her backpack from the chair where she kept it and left the small place she dwelled in. She may have been there for the past year but she didn't think she could ever bring herself to call it home.

Hogwarts had been home. It was her life and when she last saw it, it was in ruins. The Granger's house had been home. But she had obviated her parent' memory and sent them to Australia, so the house was no longer theirs.

Hermione felt homeless and alone. She had no connections to her friends and allies, she was on her own. And the little presents that came weekly told her two things. One, that whoever was sending them was a wizard, because of the prophet articles old and new that mentioned her specifically, or spoke of her loved ones in ways similar to the attached note along with the gifts. Two was that whoever this was knew who and where she was. The packages always arrived via muggle post on a Thursday, Today's had been no different.

Hermione refused to let these items get to her, but deep down she knew that her cover was blown. She really should leave, just pack and go, find a new hiding spot, because eventually her stalker was going to come and get her, and then she wouldn't be free anymore. When she was caught the descriptive innuendos her stalker spoke of each week would no longer be nightmares, they would be reality.

But Hermione just needed to get through the semester. There were only two weeks left that was all. Hermione couldn't let go of her studious proclivities. She was a bookworm and proud of it, she was smart and that wouldn't ever change. She may have changed her name, found a way to tame her unruly curls, and parted with her magic, but she would always be intelligent.

She had enrolled in classes at a community university in the city and had plans to become a teacher. She may always be running from the world she once belonged to, but she was determined to make a life out of her new circumstance. She knew that becoming a muggle wasn't a temporary change, it was indefinite and possibly forever if the light never got control back. She wasn't one to sit idly by.

She reached the campus which was only a short walk and made it to class. The hour passed by relatively quickly and Hermione found herself on her guard. She had hoped the class would take longer, she felt safe surrounded by ordinary muggles, by a structured lecture setting and was always tense when it was over.

Desparingly she exited the lecture hall and headed across the campus green, a small courtyard where students tended to eat lunch towards the café she liked to study in. It was a quite, quaint little place, which overlooked the campus. It had the regular bundle of activity from students and faculty ordering the daily fixes, but wasn t nearly as distracting as the green.

She ordered herself a small blueberry muffin and a tea and sat at her usual table before pulling out her book and composition notepad. She sipped her tea and picked at the food in front of her as she read, scribbling notes in black ink occasionally as she saw something worth noting.

She was immersed in her work that she didn't notice the presence until it sat down at her table.

The sudden rustling of papers and scraping of the chair across from her alerted her to the appearance of another person and caused her to look up, into the face of her worst nightmare, literally.

Thorfinn Rowle, sat across from her expression unreadable, blue eyes piercing and blonde hair exactly ash she remembered it. And she felt afraid. Here not only sat a deatheater but one she had a history with. A wizard she had made an enemy of in her first year, years before he ever took the mark, a Slytherin who had promised revenge.

There he was and as she widened her eyes and gasped, she saw the blank canvas of his face shift into the smallest hint of a smirk before he spoke.

"Hello, Princess."


	2. Chapter 2

~ ~ ~ _Chapter Two_ ~ ~ ~

Thorfinn entered the small muggle café. He was impressed, actually at the true brilliance the little witch showed. She relied on her muggleborn instincts and had forsaken her own magic to disappear from the wizarding world all together.

Once he had her location figured out, he assessed the area she lived in. It was a small, community made up of mostly younger adults. University aged, and he knew that there was a small muggle institution nearby her flat, so he assumed that the girl would blend into the norm and he recalled that she loved to learn.

A quick imperious to the muggle secretary and he had Mia Gate's records, the name the witch had chosen as an alias. He memorized her schedule and waited until she exited her morning lecture. As she headed to the café across the way, he followed her. He waited outside for several minutes and when he was sure she was occupied with her homework entered the café and sat across from her.

She looked up immediately when he had settled and he noticed her complexion paled considerably and her eyes widened in fear. So she recognized him then, _good_. He had barely recognized her, without her mane of bushy frizz, she blended in quite nicely. It was a pity though because he had always liked her hair…

"Hello Princess," Thorfinn greeted her.

Hermione's thoughts were racing. Rowle was sitting right in front of her, did he send the packages? Was her time finally up? She wouldn't go without a fight, she'd play his game before she went with him.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure you have the right person," she began trying not to choke on her fear, "I don't know you."

Thorfinn was not amused. This was not the time for games. "Hermione," he warned testily. The witch stilled for a moment before shrugging and shaking her head.

"Nope, sorry. I'm Mia, Mia Gates, it's nice to meet you, mister?" she said evasively. He scowled.

"Hermione, I'm not in the mood for games. I need you to listen to me." He bit out in hushed tones.

To his immense displeasure he was interrupted before he could give Hermione his warning.

"Mia, is this guy bothering you?" the scrawny barista said. Thorfinn appraised the guy and really wondered at his bravery, the boy had no meat on him whatsoever and Thorfinn was well, a giant compared to the short skinny kid. Yet he came over to make sure Hermione, no Mia, was okay.

"Umm, no Tim. its fine really, I was just leaving." She said and packed up her things not wanting to risk her sometimes friend's safety if he even looked at Rowle the wrong way. Rowle was known for his temper. Maintain her façade of not knowing Rowle, she hurriedly gathered her belongs and retreated from the café. Once she was out the door she bolted.

Running as fast as she can she turned sharply but too soon, into a dark dead end alleyway.

Behind her she heard a familiar crack, and knew that she was cornered, without a wand she couldn't dissapparate herself, before her was a tall brick wall and behind her, the wizard blocked her only escape.

"Fucking shit on a Sunday." She muttered lowly to herself. Hermione was fucked. Knowing any attempts and running were now futile she turned to face Rowle.

The man lumbered over her, well over six feet tall, she felt tiny compared to her 5'4 frame. She expected sneers and hexes to be thrown at her, at the very least some taunts, but found instead that she was just picked up and thrown over the shoulder of the Viking like man.

Before she could even scream, she felt the sensation of being pulled through a tube, and when it passed surveyed her new surroundings.

It was her flat, _wait, what?_

"Princess, I'm going to set you down, and you are going to sit there willingly or I will put you in a body bind, do I make myself clear?"

She nodded her head, not realizing that he couldn't see her subtle movement. Not hearing a peep from the witch Thorfinn took her silence as consent, and set her on her feet before the chair. She sank into the chair, but didn't look at him. He didn't even need to use legilimency to hear her unspoken question.

 _What is going on?_

"I don't have much time to explain things Hermione. All I can say is that you are in danger. How long have you been receiving gifts and how often do they arrive?"

"Why should you care?" The witch asked him bitterly, defying him. If he had time he would have smirked happy to spar with her, but as things stood he was getting impatient.

"Answer the bloody question and be quick about it." He growled out at her.

"Three months every Thursday." Hermione informed him.

"Fuck, why are you still here? Do you know who sends them?" He interrogated her. Hermione wanted to know just how he knew about the packages but saw the look on his face and realized it wasn't because he was sending them. For a second before his face morphed back into its blank state, she saw genuine concern. She chose to answer the question.

"I'm here because I need to be here, I have nowhere else to go. And If I knew who was sending them he'd be dead already."

"Fuck. You are not going to like this then princess. Walden Macnair." He said simply. Her face went completely white, and he thought she might pass out. It seems that she wasn't immune to the reputation of the older wizard.

"Oh no." She whispered.

"Yes, Macnair has decided to play a little game with you and when he gets bored of sending anonymous messages he intends to play with you in other ways. And share you between himself and Theodore Nott, Sr." Thorfinn grimly informed the girl before him. When he threw out the name of the second notoriously unpleasant wizard she fell from her chair unconscious.

"Fuck." He muttered he hadn't wanted to make her pass out. "Rennervate." He hissed and she sat up with a start.

"I suppose you are here to just give me to them then." She said.

'No you daft girl. I'm here to protect you!" Thorfinn exclaimed his patience gone, "Now pack a fucking bag so we can go."

"P pppr protect me?" Hermione stuttered her question out. Thorfinn raked his hands through his hair in exasperation with the witch.

"Good Gods girl, get a move on would you. Macnair certainly won't wait to barge through that door." He hollered and it seemed to make the girl jump to action.

Minutes later she had a bag packed. While she was throwing clothes and a few books into a bag, Thorfinn located her wand in a drawer, dusty from lack of use. He pocketed it, not trusting her with it yet, but wanting to return it to the witch at some point.

"Lets go." He clipped. Before grabbing her into a side along apparation.

Moments later they were in one of the guest suites of Rowle Mansion.

"Welcome home Princess. I suggest you make yourself comfortable, you'll be here awhile." He sneered at her.

Hermione ripped her arm away from the deatheater and straightened her posture. She wasn't going to let capture change her spirit.

"Fuck you Rowle." She spat.

Thorfinn chuckled darkly. "You wish, Princess. This will be you room. I'll let you get cleaned up, and then I'll explain things." He said and closed the door behind him, locking it. He didn't want the witch trying anything, he needed he where he knew exactly where she was.

Thorfinn made it to the library and cursed loudly. He hadn't thought this plan through at all. He had reacted rashly, as he was known to do, and he was screwed. He was a fucking lord and deatheater for merlin's sake. He was subject to random visits from the minister and other lords on a regular basis. And he had brought her here, what in the name of fuck had he been thinking?

He hadn't been. He has rushed to action, before stopping to think. Part of him still wondered why he even cared about her, he never liked her anyway. Despised her really, little bitch had almost ruined his life. But, his conscious knew why he had saved her. It didn't matter what they might have done, what _she_ might have done, nobody deserved to fall into the hands of Macnair or Nott.

And he certainly wasn't about to let them get near his witch. Thorfinn swore under his breath again. Now he had gone and started thinking of the girl as his. He was royally fucked. What was he going to do?

He reached into the cabinet and poured himself a glass of fire whiskey.

Hermione stared nastily at the door. She had heard the click as he locked it and didn't bother to try opening it. It would have been futile.

She glanced around the room instead. She could have banged her fists against the door and screamed but she highly doubted it would have been effective. She decided not to act like a child and be mature about this. She could berate the arse later. The room was quite nice, it had a large bed, decent wardrobe space, not that she would ever be able to fill it, and even a nicely sized bathroom, with a gigantic tub.

Hermione didn't know the last time she had had a bath. It was long before she fought in the battle. She wanted to resist the luxury. She wanted answers. She wanted to know where she was and why Thorfinn had brought her here. What he planned to do with her, why he saved her. She was overwhelmed with her thoughts. She was Bewildered by her own actions, She had put her trust in Thorfinn Rowle, a man no, a deatheater who she had almost gotten expelled in her first year, his seventh. He threw out the names of two horrible wizards and she just threw caution to the wind? Good Godric what was wrong with her?

Ultimately the temptation was too strong to hold out, as Hermione's body tensed from the stress of the day and her thoughts put her brain in overdrive, she caved and began to run the taps for a bath. Answers could come later.

At any rate, she had known since the first gift arrived that her cover was blown. She should have run then, so if she did end up betrayed by Rowle it was only her own fault for being stubborn.

She might as well relax while she still could. Besides she was locked in the suite, it wasn't like she could just barge out and demand answers.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello Dear Readers. Thank you all for showing your love and support as this story develops through following, adding it as a favorite and leaving reviews. Speaking of reviews, I recently received one that expressed to me some concerns and I just want to reassure you guys that I will be seeking out a beta very soon and editing chapters. I also know that some readers may feel the story is moving to fat with Thorfinn already moving Hermione into his house, but rest assured that just because they will be sharing a residence it won't impact their relationship immediately. I always appreciate your comments but I do hope you understand that the story is going to develop at my pace and that I have plans for the plot as a whole. Thanks again for all of your support and here is chapter 3.**

* * *

It was several hours after her half-abduction half self-placement that Hermione found herself redressed in her jeans and favorite jumper, sitting across the long dining room table from Thorfinn Rowle. She was glowering at him in annoyance and in expectation. He was just sitting there looking her up and down and she wanted answers.

Seeing that her facial expression was failing to motivate him into providing answers she decided try a new tactic. She gave him a once over, albeit a very slow one. The wizard in front of her had always been exceptionally good looking.

She remembered the first time she had seen him, though the recollection of that situation was one she would rather remember. In one simple encounter she had managed to make herself a very dangerous enemy and land herself with her first crush.

The man was damn near godlike in his appearance. He was very tall, and muscular, but lean. She didn't think there was an ounce of fat anywhere on his body, it was just rock hard muscle. She found herself wondering what his abs might look like, she had a good idea though based on the rest of him.

His arms were long, and Hermione was embarrassed to admit it but they felt good wrapped around her when he had picked her up and hauled her over his shoulder.

His blonde hair was long and wavy, she had an unyielding desire to run her fingers through it.

Thorfinn couldn't help but to smirk at his witch. She was giving him the mother of all once overs and her face kept flushing so it was obvious to him that she was checking him out. He rose an eyebrow and looked at her, debating with himself whether or not to draw attention to the fact.

"If you quite finished fawning after my good looks, I'm sure you have questions you'd like me to clear up for you." He said, his overall amusement at her reaction winning the battle. She was back to glaring at him in the next moment.

"Yes, several questions in fact. First of all is what are you going to do with me?" Hermione prodded, demanding a response.

"I've already told you. I mean to protect you, therefore you are under my protection. I'm not going to turn you in if that is what you are worried about." Thorfinn said in a calm and even tone. This witch had a long history of trying his patience and irking his temper, but He truly wanted to remain calm. The last thing he wanted to do was give her a reason to fear him.

It was going to be just Thorfinn and his witch for the foreseeable future and while he was sure in that time that there was going to be a heck of a lot of sexual tension, arguments, mistrust and frustration, he didn't want her to fear him, or what he would do. The last thing he wanted was to see her fate in the hands of the deatheaters.

"Okay, So I'm under your protection. What does that mean exactly?" The witch continued to grill him.

"It means that until I say otherwise, that you will live where I choose, right now that is here my childhood home and current residence, Rowle Manor. It means that you will be kept out of the public's eye and if at any point your safety is at risk I will intervene to save your ass."

"Why are you protecting me? Why do you care? You hate me." She countered, not understanding why he even wanted to keep her here.

"Princess, please listen to me. I wouldn't have cared a year ago what happened to you, in fact I would have relished the idea of you on your knees before me in what I then considered to be your rightful place. Now, now I find myself increasingly disgusted with the way the other lords, sorry haven't gotten that far yet… the deatheaters are treating fallen rebels. It's sickening. I don't want to see that happen to you, I can't explain why, because I don't know. But I definitely do not hate you." He confessed to his witch. Damn it all to hell, he berated himself mentally. His was still mentally possessive of her, and he wanted to know why.

"Fine," she conceded seeming to accept his explanation. He had questions for her to. This conversation was far from done and he needed to figure out exactly how much she knew about the new world order.

"How much do you know about what has happened in the past year?" he demanded.

"I only know bits and pieces that I caught from the news clippings my stalker, erm Macnair sent. I didn't know anything until Three months ago. Lucius Malfoy is the new Minister of magic, and the deatheaters won the war. The light was forced to go into hiding and now or considered rebel forces. Any Rebel agent captured is sold to a ministry official or other supporter of Malfoy's. I don't know much, other than it's essentially enslavement, torture or worse." She conveyed her knowledge, which Thorfinn found completely lacking.

"You are correct that Lucius Malfoy declared himself the Minister, however, there is no Ministry. It's Lucius Malfoy and his Lords in charge and Malfoy's word is law. There are 15 other lords, myself included who oversee a specific aspect in the new world order." Thorfinn revealed.

"Lords, and you are one of them? Surely that means that you are great risk of being caught for helping me," his witch began to protest but he cut her off with a sharp look.

"My specific role in the new regime as it happens to be, is to evaluate the participants of the re-education program the minister founded. More specifically that means that my job is to work closely with the lords to who the captured rebel agents are given to. These Lords are meant to use any means they see fit towards a captive in their care, to reform the views of the participant. I determine whether or not a rebel has successfully converted to our side and give them a place in the new society. Of course I have to take into consideration the recommendations of the lords who care for the rebels in the program. I'm sure you can imagine that none of them particular care to be honest about the improvement of their captives. Thus far, no participant has been overturned." Thorfinn continued in his explanation. "You are correct that my position as a lord, puts me at considerable risk if my helping you was to be found out. I would be killed instantly."

"Can you tell me what has happened to my friends?" Hermione asked him. She still didn't know what to consider him, her savior, protector, or her guardian?

"I don't want to upset you Princess." He replied, not meeting her eyes.

"Please." She begged.

"Many rebel are still on the run. The Minister has reformed the former aurors and snatchers to utilize their resources into hunting them down and capturing rebels alive. Many of your friends have yet to be apprehended. The Weasley's are believed to be in Romania and in France, potter was last seen in Venice but his trail was lost months ago. Some of your housemates and peers have been captured. Neville Longbottom was distributed to Draco Malfoy, Luna Love good married Antonin Dolohov and is pregnant. As is his other wife Hannah abbot. Theodore Nott Sr. had two wives you would know, before they died. Lavender Brown and one of the Patal girls."

Hermione began to cry silently as the man before her divulged the horrifying details. "Do you know how they are faring, the ones still alive at least?"

"I won't lie to you Princess, this program was not created for their comfort, and many of the deatheaters they are housed with are known to be cruel and degrading. But I'm not going to give you any more specifics because they are clearly upsetting you. I think that's enough of this conversation for tonight. I'd like to show you around the house."

Hermione nodded her assent. "But wait, how did you know Macnair was sending me gifts?" She voiced.

"I heard him talking about his plans for you over drinks last night. He was bragging about how he'd been toying with you for months. Later." He commanded when he saw more questions on her face. He stood from the table and crossed it length to stand behind her chair and pull it out for her.

Hermione was silent as he gave her a tour of his home. He has told her that he was only going to show her the areas he preferred her to stick to. She was informed that she should not venture downstairs on her own.

He showed her the library which was just down the hall from her suite. It was magnificent. There were shelves of books muggle and wizarding alike adorning the shelves, several wing backed chairs and plush couches. The room had a cozy fireplace, which Thorfinn explained was always lit.

He also showed her the way to his study, and where his room was.

"I'm usually either in my study or the library when I'm home, or I'll be in my own bedroom suite so these are the areas you can find me should you need to." Thorfinn stated.

"I'll be able to freely roam about? You won't be locking me in my room." She questioned him.

"No, unless I'm entertaining guests here, which I prefer to avoid but often cannot prevent, you will have free access to this level of the house. I don't want to keep you prisoner, just have you safe."

"Thank you." She said softly, and met his gaze.

"Your welcome Princess. I'll let you explore." Thorfinn murmered and began to walk always from her.

"Rowle wait." She called out, stopping him in his tracks. "You said as long as you are not entertaining I'm free to roam, what happens when you are?"

"I have figured that part out yet." He announced. "I'm sort of making it up as it happens Princess." And with that he did leave. Hermione sat on the floor of the library feeling more puzzled then when she had arrived. The night had certainly ben revealing, but she had no idea where she stood with the wizard who rescued her.

For now, Hermione was going to consider him her rescuer and see this house as her sanctuary.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here is chapter 4. I hope you all enjoy it. I am also aware of the epic mess that is chapter 1. something happened between writing it in Microsoft Word and uploading it and it completely removed quotations and apostrophes, don't ask me why. I did edit that I soon as I noticed an reposted the chapter but it doesn't seem to be editing the changes for some reason. Just be aware I am looking into to resolving the issue and appreciate all of you who are still with me despite the problems at the start.**

* * *

Hermione had eventually lifted herself up and off of the surprisingly comfortable carpeted floor of the Library in Rowle Mansion. She opted to seat herself on a small, black plushloveseat that was near the fireplace. She had not yet even gone over to the three other walls of the room to explore the titles of books that aligned the shelves.

It was out of character for her, she supposed. The Hermione Granger in a library without a book. As she pondered that idea she recalled an old joke that Ron had come up with for her. The Christmas of Third Year her friends had come over to her muggle home to spend a day with her over the holiday, and Hermione had introduced them to her favorite muggle game, Clue. Ron had though he was so clever and funny ever since then to announce loudly to anyone that cared to listen that if anybody mysteriously wound up dead, it was Hermione in the library with a hardcover book who killed them.

She chuckled to herself at the memory before her thoughts took a darker turn. As she stared into the fireplace she puzzled together the pieces from all the notes that Macnair had sent her and considered what she knew about the man who had been stalking her.

While she wanted to be prepared for whatever plans the sick pervert had in mind for her, Hermione found herself terrified at learning the truth.

Macnair intended to share her with Theodore Nott. And not young Theo Nott, the quiet, studious Slytherin boy whom Hermione had never been really bothered by. No The elder Theodore Nott, the cruel and twisted creep who had already had 4 wives, now six she supposed since Rowle's earlier revelation, that had all ended up dead within a few short years, in some cases months. Nott had been suspected to have been involved in all of the incidents, however without concrete evidence the murders were classified as unfortunate accidents and Nott walked away free.

The wizard also wasn't known for treating his wives particularly well either. While they were still breathing he paraded them off on his arm as a trophy of sorts and made sure that the bruises on their faces were visible as a warning to anyone who tried to cross him. The message it left was clear, _look what I do to my wife, what do you think I'll do to you_. She had no idea what he did with them in private or worse intimate situations, and she didn't particularly care to find out either.

From what it sounded like if Macnair was sharing her she wouldn't be married of to the creep but Macnair himself wasn't any better. He was known as a brute and violator of women. He enjoyed having witches at his mercy, and he didn't particular care if a witch was claimed or not, he got extreme pleasure out of hunting down a witch and assaulting her, a nothing would stop him.

Hermione couldn't help the shudder that came from her at the mere idea that he sought to claim her as his prize should she be captured. And he enjoyed playing little mind games with her to, because there was nothing he like better than conquering a scared witch.

She pieced together the messages in his notes: Bend to his will, wipe his floors, drink his milk, wear his marks, and call him master. The notes were all short and very derogatory, most innuendos of exactly what he had planned for her, but she could read between the lines. Servitude, bending to his will and wiping his floors meant she would be his servant and be forced to call him master, but it wasn't just work he would have in store for her. He intended to have her as his little sex toy as well, use her mouth to pleasure him, and dominate her. Bearing his mark meant that she would be forced to reveal whatever punishments he had in store for her.

Hermione was silently crying at the thought. In the muggle world, despite the weekly gifts reminding her that she wasn't as well hidden as she thought, she felt like the possibility of that future was further off than it was now. As a muggle Hermione had relied solely on herself, she was independent and had created a new identity for herself. And the Muggle world was vast so she could always recreate herself and relocate should she need to.

Now she was in the hands of a known deatheater, a pureblood Slytherin who was known not only to despise her existence, but who had promised to enact revenge on her personally. He hadn't only tried to kill her on multiple occasions a deatheater, he had terrorized her when she was in her first year to.

And now she was all but moved into his house and at his mercy. And for some unexplainable reason she trusted him. He claimed to want to protect her, and she found that she was overlooking her history with the Viking like wizard and actually believing that he meant her no harm.

She must have lost her mind, this was Thorfinn Rowle, her childhood bully and known deatheater, a lord in the new government ruling the post war wizarding world, and she was under his thumb. For all she knew she was a captive and he was going to use her to his advantage before tossing her into the snake pit and laughing as she was broken by men he claimed to want to protect her from.

Yet something in his treatment of her, something in his beautiful blue eyes made her not only want to trust him but to feel safe with him.

The young witch nodded off with the lingering thoughts of how it felt to have his arms around her, and lulled by the yellow and orange flicking of flames before her.

* * *

Thorfinn was pacing his study. He needed a plan. He'd been very foolish to bring her to his house. He was a lord for Salazar's sake. He not only worked with the very people who wanted to find all rebel agents and dehumanize them, he entertained these people in his house because he was a lord. His position in the new world order was one of privilege, not necessarily a high ranking position as a trusted advisor to the minister, but still one of respect. He had joined the dark Lord's ranks later than many of the other lords, but that was due to his younger age and the fact that he had been a young child when the dark lord disappeared the first time around. They could hardly ask a boy of 7 to join the ranks.

In spite of his late initiation he managed to be noticed. He knew that his appearance and size played a part in that, but he had also proven himself more than capable and willing to complete his missions so had risen through the ranks fairly quickly.

Under the new leadership, Thorfinn was respected for his work as a deatheater and perhaps not a favorite but he was rewarded for his past work, and for his name his father having been a respected comrade before his untimely demise.

As a lord, Thorfinn had to entertain his fellow lords and other leaders in the regime by throwing dinner parties or having select members over for drinks. He had idiotically brought a rebel agent who was wanted and already promised to another lord into his house. It was jeopardizing not only his witch's safety, but his reputation as well.

He had allowed Macnair and Nott to believe he was trustworthy by not giving up the information the former had located a wanted witch and failed to come forth with the information to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. While the whole thing might be a charade, and he would maintain that he knew nothing of the girl's sudden disappearance from the muggle community, he hadn't thought things through before bringing her here. To his home, where not only the minister and other Aurors of the DMLE frequented, but Walden visited often himself.

He could not have Hermione traipsing through his house when Macnair was known to drop by on a whim for a drink or a meal or a proposition for him. If Macnair found her here, he would reveal Thorfinn's betrayal to the rest of the Lord's, Claim Hermione as a prize, and he wouldn't be able to do anything about because at best he would be being tortured in prison, but more than likely he would be dead.

How was he going to fix this? He couldn't just lock the girl in her room when he had company, that wasn't civilized, she wasn't his prisoner and he didn't want to treat her as such. But there was the obvious conflict of her being recognizable. Then a thought struck him, his mother had always been particular interested in glamour charms when he was a kid. There was a small section in the Library with all the books she had acquired about them, and he remembered one being on human glamour transfigurations. If he could find that book and tap into some of the extensive knowledge he knew his witch possessed he might be able to pull off a long-term glamour to alter her appearance. Then he could give her a new identity and pass her off as a relative or something…

With long, purposeful strides, Thorfinn burst from his study and towards the library in search of the book. He was facing the wall opposite the fireplace, and cast a quick locator charm on the shelf to determine its hiding spot. A moment later a certain title on the third shelf glowed a light blue and he grabbed it, glancing at the title before confirming it was in fact the item he sought. He pocketed the small tome and turned to make his way back to his study to read it, when mumbling drew his attention across the room.

He hadn't noticed that Hermione was still in the room, given the late hour, and he slowly crossed the room to discover that the witch was asleep, muttering under her breath from her dream, her head resting on her shoulder. The second thing he noticed is that his witch lacked a book, and he smirked. There was a first time for everything, but he still found it funny that his witch fell asleep in the library even when she wasn't reading.

It occurred to him that her position couldn't be very comfortable, the sofa was small so she couldn't properly stretch out. Her knees were bent and turned into the back of the leather cushions and her ankles were crossed, but she was all but sleeping in an upright position.

For the first time that day, the wizard found himself appraising her beauty unrepentantly, seizing the moment as she was a sleep and wouldn't know.

She was thinner then he remembered, too thin, and still short. She was only a little over five feet, which was short to him but he found that he liked her smaller size. He appraised her hair, the locks were still the rich chocolatey brown that he remembered, but lacking the curls and frizz that he had teased her mercilessly about, earning her part of the nickname he knew people still called her. The bushy haired know-it-all. He may have teased her about the mess that was her hair, but he secretly had always thought it suited her. Now it was wavy more than anything, the ringlets were smooth and even. It was still pretty, but seemed to detract from his image of her being wild and powerful. He wanted to see that Hermione thrive.

She had freckles around her nose, which crinkled in her sleep, and her lips were full, and pink and ended in little dimples. He sighed as he looked at her, it was the only time he had ever seen her look so peaceful, she even had a small ghost of a smile as she dreamed so he supposed it must be something nice.

He was growing frustrated with himself. This was a witch six years younger than he, almost seven, who was a Gryffindor, who he had not only teased and swore vengeance against years ago but been raised to despise her because of her blood status. Yet he found himself enamored be her good looks, attracted to her intelligence, her wit and sass, he had always enjoyed sparring with her, and he wished he could get that part of her back. She was still pretty his witch, but it was clear that the war, the battle and the past year had taken its toll on her personality and she wasn't her usual spunky self.

Thorfinn hated himself, but he wanted her, he wanted her to be his in very way, and he shouldn't feel that way. Firstly he had no right to her, and secondly he knew those feelings would never be reciprocated by the girl, so it was a lost cause. Though knowing that and changing his feelings were two very different things.

He picked the young witch up with ease and cradled her in his arms, as he slowly and gently walked her to her bed and laid her in it in a much more comfortable position then he had found her. She was still mumbling things in her sleep as he pulled the covers over her. He kissed her forehead before he could stop himself.

"Goodnight Princess." He said to the sleeping girl before leaving the room. As he closed the door behind him he mentally swore to himself that he would do his best to remain as far away from her as was possible and only speak to her as necessary. He but a barrier between his feelings for the witch and the strength he needed to have to pull of his plan. He would inform her of the new development in the morning. Thorfinn walked away from her room and retreated into his study once again. He had consumed more fire whiskey in the past days then he normally would have, and he knew it was all the fault of the little lion in the room down the hall. Her presence alone drove the man to drink.


	5. Chapter 5

A week had passed since Thorfinn had rescued Hermione. The wizard had given her a book to study about glamour's, little charms that could last for temporary amounts of time to alter or mask the appearance of something. The disillusionment charm was a variation of a glamour, causing a witch or wizard to become close to invisible. Hermione was also familiar with transfiguration which was also a type of glamouring things, objects mostly. However the book Rowle had given her was on human glamours, which were a tricky business.

Many witches used small glamours for short periods of time, like to change the color of their nail polish, hair or eyes, or to remove freckles etc., but these charms were short lived. Thorfinn wanted her to essentially give herself an entirely new appearance, under a long term glamour. But Hermione had never been one to worry about such trivial pursuits as shopping and getting dolled up for dates or balls, and had never once even attempted a glamour.

She was certainly gifted in transfiguration, but done incorrectly and she could cause permanent damage to herself. It took an exceptionally powerful magical core to pull off the kind of magic Thorfinn wanted, and Hermione wasn't sure she could accomplish something of this magnitude, especially not when she hadn't used magic in over a year.

The young witch had spent the week researching the subject of human transfiguration and felt she finally had a solution. She wouldn't be able to cast the glamour herself, because it required another caster to perform it, but she could coach him through the process, should he need it.

The past week had been quiet, most of her time was spent in the library and she ate either there or in her rooms. Aside from checking in on her periodically, her rescuer all but left her alone. He seemed to shut himself away in his study when he was in the mansion and that was fine by her.

Hermione was still weary of his motives and his presence unsettled her, but she didn't find that she was afraid.

At the moment the wizard was out, he hadn't bothered to tell her personally just left a note in the library that he had business to attend to. So she would have to wait until he returned to update him on her research.

It was Thursday. And Hermione was relieved that she didn't receive a package that morning. She didn't awake with dread in the pit of her stomach, wondering what sick comments awaited for her, like she had every other Thursday for the past three months. She found herself wondering about the packages though. She usually found them outside her door every Thursday morning, and she had assumed they were delivered with the daily post, but now considered the possibility that they were hand delivered.

She had always tossed the packages out, ignoring their content and struggling to get on with her day with a brave face, and previously had figured that her stalker wouldn't know the difference. But if they were hand delivered… that meant Macnair stood outside her resident and that was just too close to comfort for her. He could easily have kidnapped her had he wished.

Hermione suppressed the shudder she felt, and refocused her thoughts on her reading. She didn't want to think such dark thoughts. Little did she know the boiling rage that her stalker was feeling at that very moment.

* * *

Macnair was pissed off beyond belief. The little bird had flown the nest. He had gone to deliver the package that day and to watch her through the window as she slept as he usually did, he was even going to take a picture or two for himself. He had already been considering sending her a picture of herself sleeping in her bed in the next weeks parcel. He was unimpressed at her lack of responsiveness to his thoughtful gifts, so he wanted to up the ante so to speak. Perhaps if he revealed how easy it was to get so close to her, it would have the desired effect. He had had a good wank the night before as he thought about it so had brought his camera with him hoping to get a good enough shot of the mudblood n a vulnerable state. Only she wasn't there and from his vantage point he saw that the apartment was ransacked as though she had left in a hurry. Now he had been playing the game with the bird for months and she hadn't run from him yet, so he was wondering just why she did now.

On the brighter side, he reminded himself, her running was a sign of fear, so now she was finally responding to his game and playing on her own accord. But he had no idea where she would have gone, and that didn't sit right with him, he already had Nott on his case about having the girl as his newest punching bag before he fucked her, and his own desire to have her on her knees, mouth wrapped around his cock was becoming debilitating. He was growing tired of notes and packages and watching, he wanted to acquire the girl, and he cursed himself for letting her slip through his fingers.

Macnair was going to punish her so bad when he caught her, she was going to regret ever running from him… by merlin he swore that oath, she would be begging for death by the time he was through with her. But he wouldn't kill her, he'd keep her as his plaything. He's play with her until she broke. And when she was broken she would only be more fun to play with.

* * *

Thorfinn had been called to the Dolohov residence that morning. When he arrived he was repulsed by his greeting. The dark haired wizard was lounged in his chair at the dining room table a plate of food before him. His two young wives, stood on either side of him, naked, their pregnant bellies now showing, and when one tried to cover herself upon noticing his arrival was punished by being flipped over Dolohov's lap and given a sound spanking. She didn't try it again, but the damage was done. Thorfinn didn't look at either woman for the reminder of the morning.

His host had of course offered him his own plate, but nauseous from what he had just witnessed Thorfinn politely declined.

"What can I assist you with today Antonin?" Thorfinn asked eventually, wanting to get his business there done and escape as quickly as possible.

"Are you sure I can't offer you some more hospitality Rowle? Perhaps Hannah can perform a nice blow job for you, I can attest for her skills at sucking a wizard's cock. Little slut enjoys it to."

"No thank you. I'm fine, really." Thorfinn insisted.

"Well then girl come here, you can suck me off. I'm already hard for it to so it'll be a treat not having to work so hard." The older wizard said to the witch on his right. It was the same one he had humiliated earlier. She didn't hesitate to sink to her knees before Dolohov and unbuckle his belt. Thorfinn's stomach churned, because she may have been quick to obey but he could see the tears in her eyes as she did so. Evidently she did not enjoy it as her husband claimed. Thorfinn felt pity for her.

It was dirty business, but Thorfinn schooled his features, hiding the fact that he was perturbed by the events in front of him.

"The reason I asked you here today was to give you my monthly report for the program."

"I see. It is an official visit after all then. Good, otherwise I'd fear I'm behaving like an ungrateful guest. I fear I didn't sleep much and am rather cranky." Thorfinn replied and played into his act. "What should I be documenting then?"

"Well, as you can probably see, not much progress has been made. That one," Dolohov nodded his head to his left at the blonde witch, Luna, he supposed, "Has improved a bit. She obeys readily and performs adequately but I recommend that we give it some time, see how she is as a mother, before adding anymore stress on her shoulders. This one, is still quite naughty and needs much more correction, she cannot seem to follow simple corrections and I'm not noticing any improvement... did I say you could stop sucking girl?" The wizard finished, the last part directed to the witch now fervently bobbing her head up and down between his thighs. Thorfinn had expected as much from Dolohov's report, he owned these girls by right of the law, and while supposedly was supposed to be seeing to their improvement, once again managed to find areas his charge could still improve.

"Noted, I will add your testament to my records directly. If you will excuse me. Dolohov, I do have other business to see to today." Thorfinn said and at Antonin's dismissive way left the dining room and retreated for the aparation point.

* * *

When he was once again in his study at his own mansion, he cursed loudly and poured another glass of Ogden's finest. He had just downed one glass and was preparing another when a quiet knock sounded on his door.

He groaned inwardly, after his morning the last person he wanted to see was his witch. How he could he look her in the eyes after watching the mistreatment of her peers who had done nothing wrong expect lose a war and know that he did nothing to stop it? A knock sounded again.

"Enter." He said tersely. The door creaked open and his witch cautiously approached.

"I'm sorry, it must be bad timing. I can come back." Hermione said upon seeing a disgruntled Rowle holding a glass of whiskey. It was only noon so, she supposed that whatever he had been dealing with had been unpleasant for him.

"No, No Princess. Please what do you need?" He replied gently. He was grateful that she seemed to want to respect his moods, but he could see excitement written on her face, and didn't have the heart to burst that bubble.

"I've found a way to create a glamour. It's an easy incantation, but I can't do the casting myself. It has to be done by another wizard." His witch informed him ecstatically. He smiled to himself, of course she was excited, she had proven herself successful at research, and nothing made the swot happier than applied learning.

"Okay, so then you need me to cast the incantation."

"Indeed. The spell is mutare aequum non tempus dicitur," Hermione recited from memory. "Really it just translates to alter fairness no time defined, stupid, I know."

"Good work, Princess," Thorfinn praised.

"It's also easy wand work. You simply point your wand at the area you wish to alter and focus on what you want it to look like instead. A simple finite incantium by the original caster or its recipient can remove the glamour."

"Very well done. Do you have an idea of what you want to appear like?" He inquired.

"No, not yet, I mean not in finality at least." She admitted.

"Very well. But we do need to figure it out quickly, Macnair will be coming over for dinner tonight. He invited himself over."

Hermione gulped, but nodded. I'll go look at some more of those magazines then and give you a rough idea. Do you have a story for my identity?" She asked.

"I do. You are my fiancé." Thorfinn declared and smirked as her face flushed. "I'll give you the details later."

"Fine," his witch said tersely and backed out of the room. She wasn't ready to face her stalker, even with a disguise, but to top it all off, Rowle just had to go and make his affianced. She would be expected to kiss him… Okay it's not that he was ugly or anything, far from it, but she didn't particularly relish the idea of kissing someone she strongly disliked.

She was grateful towards him for helping to hide her, she appreciated that he was treating her like a guest and not a prisoner like he easily could, but the past was hard to forget.

Hermione counted at least 5 occasions where she had him throwing curses at her with intent to kill or at least very seriously harm, more than 50 hexes he successfully hit her with in his seventh year, her first, and hundreds if not thousands of taunts and sneers that ended with her in tears. All because she was a mudblood who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and found him with his trousers around his ankles and a witch bobbing her head while on her knees in front of him. Of course she would report him, it was the library! Good Godric, those things were best left for the privacy of a dorm or a broom closet, but not the Library where anyone, anyone could find them. Where she found them. What was she supposed to do really? The intent to kill may have been put into action when they found themselves on opposing sides in battle, but she suspected that had he thought he could have gotten away with it when she nearly got him expelled, that he would have been all too happy to end her life.

She couldn't easily overlook the hurt he had caused her over the years, and she certainly didn't want to go off and be forced to kiss him, even if he was dreamy and well-practiced.

Hermione was silently ranting to herself as she flipped through the stack of magazines looking at models. She had to change just about everything about herself, the good the bad and the ugly, some part of her was a little bit thrilled to have the opportunity to change areas she disliked on her body, but mostly she just felt sad and scared about why she had to.

About an hour later she had a clear idea of what she wanted to look like and hunted Rowle down once more. She found him in his study.

"Come to any decisions?" He said as a greeting.

"Yes, of course. I don't have much choice do I?" She retorted hotly.

"Well let's have it then." He snapped. She gave him a dirty look before she showed him the collage she had created. He shrugged and then nodded. "Okay then."

He lifted his wand and pointed it at her face "mutare aequum non tempus dicitur," he stated clearly and her watched as her eyes changed shape and color, instead of her beautiful whiskey colored eyes, they turned to a blue-green haze, and reformed to look more almond-shaped with higher and thinner brows which widened the overall appearance of her eyes from their normally narrowed slits. He repeated the incantation and her hair transformed from her soft brown ringlets to sleek, straight midnight black tresses that fell down to her lower back. Again he said the words and her short hourglass figure was traded in for long, lean legs that raised her height to 5'9 and narrowed her whole body, adding extra room in her bust and butt areas. One last time, and her freckles disappeared, her cheekbones rose a little higher, her complexion became more tan, and her lips a little more plump and full. She looked completely anew and Thorfinn didn't like it one bit. But it was what would keep her safe.

Not that her new features were ugly far from it. She looked like a supermodel, and the walking wet dream of every teenage wizard ever the, and while he would be lying if he claimed he didn't think she was hot, he knew that this wasn't her. This wasn't his witch, with curly hair, dimples, a cute button nose whose frizzy locks practically sizzled with magical energy. And that was the witch Thor wanted.

"Well?" She asked him tentatively, her voice several octaves higher than normal.

"It will do very nicely," he said not wanting to insult his witch, but not wanting to make it seem like he liked it more than he did.

"Okay umm thanks, I guess."

"I had Moppy put clothes in your wardrobe. They are charmed to fit. They are ordered in from America. Which is your cover. You are Blair Nightshade, a half-blood witch from America. You attended a small all girls magic school in Seattle named Strickland Academy. My cousin attended there before her death two years ago. You were her best friend. I had met you on one occasion in the past visiting , Tatiana one summer. You are 22 years old born on October 3rd. You had always wanted to see London and I offered to let you stay with me. That struck up a correspondence and when you arrived last weekend led to more. You can come up with a good story about how that led to a sudden engagement."

"How did your Cousin die? I'm sorry for being impertinent but if I was her friend then I should know."

"It was a portkey accident. She let go too fast and plummeted to her death. It was an unfortunate tragedy." Thorfinn shared, his voice giving away the truth that it was too hard to talk about for him. Hermione respected that unconscious cue he he provided, assuming that Rowle wasn't even aware he had provided it.

"Oh that is terrible." She said sympathetically and dropped the subject.

"Thank you. You should probably go and get ready. Dinner is at seven. I'll come and collect you shortly before then." He rumbled abruptly.

Hermione nodded and made to exit the room. She stopped once she was at the door.

"Rowle?" She asked and then continued once he looked at her. "I just want to thank you. For going to all this trouble. For me especially." Thorfinn had looked back at his feet when she thanked him.

"It's no trouble princess. Now go get dressed." But she had already gone he noticed when he looked back up, the door was once again closed.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey guys Before I give you chapter 6 let me just please remind you that while I appreciate reviews that I really do prefer for them to be in English, its kind of difficult at times to pull up my translator to decipher what you are trying to say to me. Its not always readily available. I hope you all can understand that I simply want to be able to reply because I love hearing what you think. Thanks so much to all of you who leave Praise, it is greatly appreciated. A special thank you goes out to my Beta Reader Not Romeo's Juliette.**

* * *

The witch groaned loud in frustration when she returned to her room and opened the closet. Th wardrobe was completely full of articles of clothing for a host of different events. There were plenty of dresses, some were casual while others were formal, and most were slinky and revealing dresses that she recognized as standard American fashion. There were very few dresses that were her preferred knee length. There were skirts and blouses, jumpers and denim anything she could imagine. She rolled her eyes. Leave it to Rowle to not only order her clothes, but order clothes that he probably suspected would make her very uncomfortable.

When she caught a glimpse of her reflection, she groaned again. She was completely unrecognizable and had the body that most girls would kill for, again probably thanks to the oversized ego of the wizard who cast the glamour. She wasn't sure how she felt about the body she was in, her mind was her own and yet her looks reminded her of girls who had the brain the size of a peanut, and didn't think anything worth a damn.

Sure she was pretty now, her hair would be much more manageable, and some of her other features she had always wished were different about her were no longer blemished. She just felt as though she was wearing somebody else's skin.

After her few minutes allotted for self-pity Hermione sighed and picked out an outfit. It was dinner, with guests so she assumed it would be more formal than jeans or even a skirt. While she shuddered to think about the horrible man's eyes roaming over her body, Hermione knew deep down she would have to wear one of those dreaded dresses.

Choosing one and a pair of shoes to match she laid it out on her bed before she stepped into the shower.

While the hot water cascaded down her back and shoulders Hermione contemplated a scenario which would lead to a quick engagement.

Blair Nightshade was an American, half-blood witch who was best friends with Thorfinn's cousin. A cousin who died. She didn't know how close the wizard was to his cousin, but assumed that due to distance that his associates wouldn't know much about Tatiana Rowle and certainly not much about her friend Blair.

But what would lead to a sudden engagement, other than the scandal of her being pregnant, which would be suspicious because she supposedly just arrived in Europe. The last thing they needed was for these people to be suspicious of them from the get-go.

An idea finally struck her. Blair was supposed to have met Thorfinn on only one occasion before. Hermione still felt odd thinking of Rowle by his first name, but she couldn't risk slipping up at dinner. She decided to make the relationship between them anything but perfect, and considered the possibility of Blair being on the run. It was close to the truth of her own situation, but she would add in enough differences to her alias that it would seem logical.

Stepping out of her shower, clean and smelling of orange blossoms, she dried herself off and charmed her hair into a braided twist that would sit at the nape of her neck.

She donned the skimpy outfit. It was a thigh high amethyst gown and a pair of strappy sandaled heels. If she was going to be an American, she was going to do things her way. While most British wizarding dinners were dismal formal occasions, an American witch wouldn't care about the acceptable British witch fashions.

The dress wasn't made of a material that she could readily identify, but it was more comfortable than she would have thought. It showed of her long legs and hugged her body, but other than being far more exposing than her normal clothes, it was comfy.

She begrudgingly applied make-up, not one to normally bother, the smoky gold hues of shadow paired with the black eyeliner and mascara with blush and a dark purple lipstick just made her feel like she was caking her face in muck. But she reminded herself that she was supposed to be Blair, not plain Hermione Granger. As she applied the finishing touches a knock sounded on her door.

She opened it to find Thorfinn standing on the other end dressed smartly in his dark wizard robes. His eyes widened when he saw her apparel.

"I have a ring for you." He said after a long moment. "It wouldn't do for my fiancé to not have a ring to show off." He said and handed her an extravagant, white gold diamond ring which had two emeralds on either side of the cut diamond. It was beautiful, but much more than what Hermione would prefer in a real ring. It would have to do though. She slipped it on her finger.

"Thank you." She replied. "You look nice Rowle."

"Finn. Please call me Finn, or at least Thorfinn. I think last names are getting a bit redundant don't you Princess."

"Wouldn't know, you have hardly called me by my name given or otherwise this whole time. But okay, Finn, first names it is."

"We should go downstairs, I want you in the drawing room looking as if you belong there when Macnair and the other's arrive." Thorfinn said and offered her his arm. Hermione took his arm but quirked her eyebrow.

"Others?" She inquired.

"Word travels fast in my circle Princess. Once Macnair invited himself over some of the others did as well. Nott, Dolohov, the Malfoy boy and Lestrange. All looking to escape either their lonely lives or their wives. It would be unseemly for me to refuse them, so get used to it." He informed her sarcastically.

"I hardly think I will ever be used to being paraded around in front of the people who want me captured." Hermione replied hotly.

"Temper, Temper. I hardly think that Blair would be as riled up as you are at the mere mention of me inviting some friends over for dinner." Hermione rolled her eyes at Thorfinn's jesting. There was of course serious undertones to his remark, a warning. She couldn't act even remotely like Hermione Granger, if they wanted to pull this off. She nodded her understanding but otherwise ignored him.

* * *

Thorfinn had stopped breathing the moment his witch opened the door. He had been imagining that it was his brown haired, amber eyed, spitfire standing there, instead of the American beauty he had created in her place. So when she opened the door and stood before him in a dress that just barely covered her arse and cute kitten heels, the air left his lungs.

It didn't return until he escorted her to the drawing room, handed her a glass of white wine, a Riesling, and left the room to get his head together. A moment later the doorbell rang and he waited in the foyer of his home for his guests to arrive. Moppy opened the door and escorted in an irate looking Macnair closely followed by Nott. Malfoy and Lestrange closely followed behind them a moment later as did Dolohov.

He greeted his unwelcome guests as they arrived and led them into the drawing room for a pre-dinner cocktail. He was both surprised and pleased to see Hermione, no Blair her corrected himself, sitting there, holding the stem of her wine glass, legs crossed and a bored smile plastered on her face. Her features changed to one of seemingly genuine happiness when she saw Thorfinn.

"Well now, Thorfinn, Who might this lovely lady be?" Drawled Draco Malfoy's voice.

Thorfinn turned to answer but was cut off by his witch. "Come now Finn, don't tell me you didn't tell your friends our happy news?" she pouted and blinked her long lashes at him. She casually switched her wine glass to her left hand effectively showing off her ring.

Thorfinn smirked, amused at her acting skills. His witch was enjoying herself, he could tell. Quietly he slipped into her mind trying to get an idea of where she was going with this.

"No, darling, haven't quite gotten around to it yet." Thorfinn said addressing her before turning to the assembled guests ogling the pair of them. "Gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to Blair Nightshade. My Fiancé."

"Engaged Thor, now that is news." Dolohov said with a sultry smirk. "Why didn't you mention anything this morning?"

"Yeah, Rowle you have some explaining to do." Macnair said. Nott only nodded.

"Blair, darling, these are Lords Rabastan Lestrange, Draco Malfoy, Walden Macnair and Theodore Nott, and Antonin Dolohov." Thorfinn almost forgot that Blair wouldn't have encountered the gentlemen before.

"Charmed, surely." She said, and then went back to looking bored. She was staring into her glass of wine with an unhappy, restless and unpleasant expression on her features which everybody seemed to notice. Thorfinn pretended to be annoyed but really was curiously amused.

"Miss Nightshade, was it? What an unusual name," remarked Lestrange. Hermione took a sip of her wine, it was crisp but sweet. She simply nodded her head, maintain her act of being discontent with company. Thorfinn cleared his throat, as if giving the witch a sign of her rudeness.

"Blair is from America. I'm certain that you wouldn't be familiar with her circle. Would he Blair?" Thorfinn addressed the guests assembled.

"Certainly not. Unless he happens to frequent the west coast often." Hermione quipped directing an irritated glance at Thorfinn. He sighed in feigned frustration.

"You must excuse her, she is not in the most agreeable of moods tonight I fear." Thorfinn said apologizing for her. This earned him a scowl from his false fiancé. Though he realized that the scowl was all Hermione, she when he talked for her. Most women did.

"Quite alright Thor. If I know women, which I do, they happen to have their moods. I don't think much of it." Rabastan Lestrange commented.

"I do apologize my lords," began the witch "But I was not expecting company and find myself not feeling overly well this evening. If you will excuse me." She said as she stood up as if to leave.

"Oh Blair, that is enough." Thorfinn said blocking her escape, feigned or not. "Sit down. I'm sure our guests would love to have your company at dinner and I know you feel just fine."

"I certainly am not impressed Finn, by you forcing me to endure such company where I can be so casually insulted." She argued.

"You wouldn't be insulted if you would behave as you should when in polite company," Thorfinn stated coldly as he led her back to her chair.

An elf had brought out some glasses of scotch and distributed them to the rest of the guests, while the couple argued.

The deatheaters seemed amused by the display.

"I do hate how stuffy your British customs are. And if you think that I am sleeping with you tonight you are sorely mistaken." She huffed and crossed her arms. It caused both Lestrange and Malfoy to laugh, and Macnair also appeared to be amused. Dolohov had raised an eyebrow, Nott looked slightly affronted as did Thorfinn, though she knew he was glowering at her for her benefit not out of real annoyance. Or maybe he was annoyed, but not angrily so.

"Blair…." He warned.

"Oh pish. As I said stuffy customs. If I can't mention sleeping with my fiancé in your so called polite company, then it's not company I wish to keep."

"Oh, I assure you Ms. Nightshade, that we don't mind one bit your delightful banter." Boomed Macnair.

"Rowle her is just a private bastard." Dolohov quickly added.

"He is a bastard," she readily agree in a sour tone.

"Tell me," said Rabastan, "Just how does an American witch come to find herself in Britain of all places and engaged to that one?" Lestrange changed the subject quickly, ending the squabble, before Thorfinn could get angry.

"It a long story really." Hermione replied, finding it easy to slip into her characterization of Blair.

"Blair is, was I should say, a close friend of my cousin Tatiana. I know most of you never had the pleasure of meeting her. Blair went to school with her, and I we were introduced once about five years ago now, when I visited my American extension of the family."

"You attended Salem Institute then?" asked a curious Malfoy.

"No I did not attend that dreadful school. I graduated from Strickland academy in Seattle. It is an all witch's school." She sneered at him, as if insulted by the assumption.

"I see." Malfoy raised his hand is defense.

"Anyway," continued Thorfinn as he sat down next to her. "That is how we came to know one another."

"Hardly Finn, don't lie to your friends. Truthfully we hated each other at first. I thought he was an arrogant, spoiled daddy's boy, and told him he was far too pretty for his own good."

"That and much more darling," Thorfinn retorted. "I despised you. You were a loud, opinionated, crass little swot, and still are frankly."

"Yes, but now you appreciate me." She said and smiled. "You came to your senses eventually."

"More like fighting your incessant chatter became too difficult to even bother anymore." He smirked.

"Asshole." She cursed at him, careful to use the American version. "As you see my lords, we still have our moments."

"Indeed." Theodore Nott muttered. He was a quiet man, and didn't have much to say, but gave her a dirty glance, obviously disliking her because of her American brashness.

"Blair and I however became closer, after Tatiana's death." Thorfinn finished began the story again capturing the attention of a fascinated audience.

"Oh yes, Tia always insisted that Europe was awesome and that I should visit sometime, and I wanted to travel, but alas I never had gotten around to it... Finn and I began writing to one another after her accident. I wrote to extend my sympathy for his loss of a relative, expecting no response, only to receive an owl later returning the sentiments."

"We grew closer through our letters, but she was involved with a young wizard in America." Thorfinn once again took his turn with storytelling.

"Until one day that I found him cheating on me. I left him, and wrote Finn the details, which allowed us to really have feelings beyond that of friendship. It's just we lived so far away." Hermione informed.

"I insisted that Blair come here when I found out that her former boyfriend had stumbled upon her new flat in a drunken stupor." Thorfinn said adding to the story. He had once again used Leglimency to pick out just where his witch was going with this charade.

"It's apartment dear." She corrected. "My ex, assaulted me that night and I spent three days in the hospital. When Finn found out he was so angry. He sent me a Howler of the worst kind demanding that I look after my own safety and finally take the overseas trip I had always wanted to."

"So she arrived last week, much later than she should have. It's been a month, and I was so relieved to see her safe, that I kissed her. That first kiss and our combined weight in a muggle booze, what's it called again Blair?"

"Tequila. We drank ourselves into oblivion, and one thing led to another, and next thing I knew he was on his knees proposing marriage and I vowed to accept it, and so here we are. Working out exactly how stupid we both are. I must say though, I have half a mind to leave you already."

The story concluded just as all the drinks in the room were empty and the Moppy announced dinner was ready. As the party made their way into the dining hall, Hermione listened to the interested comments. She was crossing her fingers that the story she presented was believable. There were far too many people she had not been planning on attendance. She wasn't sure how well she could pull of the act.

Thorfinn held out the chair for Hermione before slipping into the one next to her. The other guests took their own seats around the table and the team of house elves brought out platters of food and wine.

When Moppy opened Hermione's platter she was surprised to find an American Styled dishes. There was mac and cheese, slider burgers, French fries, among other things. Amused she noticed the baffled and even disgusted faces of the guests. Thorfinn gave her a look that she knew meant he had done this, but was going to use this as a cover.

"Blair, what exactly did you tell the elves to cook?" Thorfinn sighed.

"I didn't like your menu plans for tonight so I instructed them to cook what I wanted to dinner. It's not my fault that you invited guests over without telling me." She said unapologetically with a shrug. "So miniature burgers and fries, along with a personal favorite macaroni and cheese. Enjoy." She said and dug into her own food.

Reluctantly the rest of the guests followed suit. The first part of dinner was suffered in silence, as everybody determined how the felt about the food. Only when the Elves brought out roasted chicken, some broccoli and such did a relieved conversation struck up.

"You my darling are a minx. You were doing this to get back at me. You didn't change the menu at all, you just added to it."

Hermione ignored Thorfinn's remark and continued eating her French fries.

"You have your hands full with that one Rowle." Macnair said and gestured to her. "We'll just have to help you teach her more about our, what did she say, stuff British customs?'

"Indeed." Said Thorfinn as Hermione gave dirty look to Macnair.

'Oh, Little witch, don't get all put out. You have quite a bit to learn. That," he said gesturing to her plat of fries, "is not acceptable for a dinner party." Macnair addressed her.

She returned to glaring at him and replied. "It may not be acceptable dinner party food, sir, but I certainly did not extend an invitation to have a dinner party to any of you. Therefore, uninvited guests do not get to complain about what they are fed." She smiled as the wizards face reddened in rage, and only widened the grin when Thorfinn glared at her.

"I told you she was in a foul mood. Blair, behave,"

"You do not get to tell me how to behave Thorfinn Rowle. I will not listen!" exclaimed his witch.

"What a shame that your delightful companion is new to England, She could benefit from the program you oversee don't you think? Not that I'm suggesting she belongs with the participants. But it is quite educational." Dolohov threatened.

"No Dolohov. I simply think that the man needs a few pointers on how to properly manage a wife. None of my brides would ever have dared defy me in such a way." Stated Nott. Hermione shuddered.

"Hey Now, these matters are not things that should be discussed in the presence of a lady." Lestrange quickly interrupted.

Hermione sat stock still, trying to look as though she was clueless as to what she was talking about. "Finn? What program are these guys referring to exactly?"

"Nothing you need to worry about darling." Thorfinn said and kissed her forehead. "Gentlemen, I would appreciate if you would refrain from speaking such towards my fiancé. I do not care to discuss politics with her."

"I can follow politics, Finn. And it's not like I know nothing of current events in your sector of the wizarding world. It's big news actually in America."

"I know, darling, but there are a lot of details that American newspapers do not report, and I don't want you to worry your pretty little head about them."

"Is this some backhanded way of telling me to stay out of your business because I am a half-blood?" She demanded to know.

"Of course not Blair." Thorfinn said.

"I Hope not."

"Of course Miss Nightshade, we would not dream of keeping you uniformed because of your status, dear girl." Began Lestrange, "however, there are so many things we deal with on a daily basis that most of us prefer to keep away from our loved ones. Thor, is just trying to protect you, love."

"Pish. He is just worried that he will reveal something that I will hate him for." She insisted. "I don't care for the rumors I have heard." Hermione stood from the table suddenly and angrily. As she did, all of the men also rose up from their spots as was polite to do when a "lady" left the table. She stormed out of the room.

Thorfinn remarked that he should go check on her, but was informed by Lestrange that she was a woman in no mood to be comforted at the point and best leave her to calm down.

The conversation turned when Hermione left the room.

"So Macnair, tell me how things are working on your hunt for the mudblood," Draco Malfoy asked curiously.

"It's going. I have seemed to get her playing the game I want. But I have no clue where she might be." The wizard confessed.

"What is that supposed to mean?" questioned Nott. "I thought you knew where she was hiding and heading to collect her. Isn't that why you had me keep quiet and not tell the snatchers anything?

"It is and I was. Except when I got there she was gone. Vanished. But I'll find her." He vowed, embarrassed to admit that he had lost the bird.

Thorfinn chose to address him. "Not that I care, but you should be wary of the snatchers now. Because if you can't find the mudblood, and they find out you had been playing with her all along before she fled, then your ass is on the line Macnair."

The man glowered at him. "Thank you for stating the obvious Rowle. I'm aware."

"Gentlemen, Should I be informing my father about this situation? Perhaps he could be of assistance."

Macnair and Nott both turned hateful expressions toward Draco. "Boy, you had better not meddle in this. It's being handled, and your father doesn't need to know a thing about it." Macnair hissed.

"I'm going to check on Blair." Thorfinn said and left the room before his guests could protest. When he made his way upstairs he found Hermione in the library throwing books around the room violently.

* * *

"Throwing books Princess. Who knew you were capable of such abuse." He teased, until she shot one in his direction.

"I hate you." She spat at him, furious.

"No you don't princess. You are just mad at me." Thorfinn declared. "Now come back to the dining room. We need to show those scoundrels that we are a couple very much in love."

"You wish." She muttered. And Thorfinn sadly realized that he did wish. He did wish this was all real. But it wasn't.

"Come." He ordered and placed his hand on the small of her back forcing her to return downstairs. The deatheaters rose as she returned to the table and when she was seated, Thorfinn leaned over placing his hand on her thigh and whispered in her ear.

"Let's give them a show, yeah?"


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione felt something deep inside her in the moment. It was a rush of heat through her entire body when his hand connected with the exposed skin on her thigh. The involuntary shudder happened again when he leaned in to whisper into her ear. Before she even had a chance to reply he had moved away just as quickly as he had come. His hand however remained in place.

"Welcome back Miss. Nightshade," greeted Lestrange with a knowing wink. She nodded at him in acknowledgment.

"I do hope that you have recovered from your episode," stated Dolohov.

"And have an improved attitude," sulked Macnair.

Hermione stayed silent as the men laughed at her expense, sensing the tension increase in Thorfinn's fingers. Strange, she thought. He seemed to be unconsciously growing in agitation and even anger at the jesting, and it was for her. It wasn't just a show, somehow she just innately knew that, this reaction was the real Thorfinn showing through.

"I spoke with my Fiancé, and she has agreed to return to this table. I hope It will not be a mistake having her here and be insulted," he suddenly addressed the other deatheaters. They silenced immediately.

"It's okay Finn. My behavior was quite atrocious earlier, and as you said a little teasing is perfectly acceptable. I'm just surprised that my lack of serving as a proper hostess didn't drive them out of here." She said and smiled sweetly before kissing him on the cheek.

He looked at her, confusion flashing on his face briefly. "You said give them a show," she muttered lowly so only he could hear.

"Quite right, quite right." Piped Malfoy.

"My lords, I hope you can forgive me for earlier. I was not in the best state of mind, but my conduct during left much to be desired and for that I do sincerely apologize. I would of course like to extend the invitation for you all to stay for coffee and dessert, and of course after dinner drinks." She apologized, as fake as it may be, she put performed brilliantly.

All of the wizards seemed charmed, and nodded in agreement when Rabastan Lestrange spoke up. "My lady, there is nothing to forgive. And we would be delighted to accept your invitation."

"Awesome." She replied in what she assumed would be an Amercanism.

"What is for Dessert, Thor?" inquired the youngest dinner guest, Draco Malfoy.

"Blair?" Thorfinn deflected the question.

"No surprises I promise. I believe Finn had selected a cheesecake, and fresh fruit. I do hope that is acceptable." The witch informed politely.

"Of course."

Hermione glanced around the room, at each of the dark wizards. She noticed that Dolohov looked slightly bored but not ill content to be there, Malfoy looked almost uneasy but was trying to hide it beneath a polite demeanor. Lestrange simply looked amused, and she thought fleetingly that if he wasn't a deatheater that she might actually like him. Nott looked annoyed, it seemed to her that he didn't want to be there and that the longer she spoke the angrier he became. He was clenching and unclenching his fists. Macnair looked downright pissed. He leered at her when her eyes met his, and she knew that he must be annoyed because his prize had fled. His gaze was unnerving, but she simply smiled at him.

"I find, my lords that I am quite interested in the current events of your country. British Wizarding society is governed far differently than in America, and seeing as I will be marrying into it, I am eager to learn more about it."

"Who better to learn from than those that run it?" Draco offered.

"Exactly what I was thinking, my lord." She agreed.

"Please, call me Draco." The young wizard insisted.

"Only if you will call me Blair."

"Of course, Blair. I would be more than happy to explain how my father governs this world."

"Thank you, Draco." She said gracefully, the name almost sticking on her tongue as her mouth went dry.

"However, I find that I am too curious about you to discuss politics with you tonight. Perhaps I can call on you sometime this week."

"I'd be honored for a visit. You are more than welcome to owl me a day that you would be free to meet for Tea. I find that I spend most days settling in when Finn is working."

"I will check my schedule and let you know."

"Miss. Nightshade, Blair, may I also call you Blair, you said that you were a half-blood, I was unaware that blood status was important in America." Interjected Lestrange.

"Of course you may call me by my given name My Lord, you all may. Miss Nightshade sounds so formal. And yes I am a half-blood, but no blood purity is not a concept most American wizards give much thought to. In America, it is the level of education, applied skills, and merit that determine the status of a wizard. While certainly there are segments in my society that feel the rich and powerful and pure should lead, there are more wizards than not that are more progressed in their thinking."

"Nightshade is an unusual last name," commented Dolohov. "For a muggle."

"Yes my lord, my mother was a muggle, but she died when I was young. My Father is a pureblood wizard, and I bear his name. He is an accomplished business man but I must confess, we never were close. He prefers to reside in his townhouse in New York, and until recently I lived in Seattle. I stayed on the west coast after graduation."

"When did you graduate? You look to be about my age. It must have been recent. I myself graduated just this past spring, though had we not been at war it would have been the year prior." Confessed Draco.

"Hmm, I graduated about three years ago. In 1996."

"Ah, I see, so if you don't mid my asking, how old are you."

"I'm 22. I was born on October 3rd, 1976." They bantered back and forth about school and Hermione felt the lies easily rolling off of her tongue.

"Were you younger than Tatianna? I thought she was closer in age to Thor You are quite a bit younger." Asked Rabastan.

"Well, yes I was a year younger than Tia, a year behind her in school as well, she was my first friend at Strickland, and I'm only four years younger than Finn."

"I see."

The casual conversation continued as the group ate the dessert and sipped on hot coffee. Just as she was about to comment that they should move the entertainment into another room to have brandy or whiskey after the meal, Thorfinn spoke up.

"Blair darling," he announced. "I believe that these gentlemen and I have business to discuss. Why don't you run along and find something else to amuse yourself with." He was dismissing her. And she knew it was a test. She smiled.

"Of course, I'm sure I can find some trouble to get into here," retorted the witch mischievously right before she leaned down and kissed him softly on his lips. "But I meant what I said earlier, don't think you're getting lucky tonight. I'm still mad." She added with a smirk. She rose from the table and this time waited as every other man present also stood.

"It was a pleasure to meet you all gentlemen. I have a good night." She said as a farewell and retreated from the room, up the stairs and to her room. She wondered just what business Rowle had with the men. Then thought that she didn't really care to know.

She was still reeling from the fact that she had kissed the man. It was part of an act, but she couldn't help but notice that the softness of his flesh against hers was delightfully warm and felt nice. It had been far too long since she had been kissed.

She picked up an edition of witch weekly from the nightstand in her bedroom. She didn't normally read the drab rag but, she was very aware of the presence of the dark wizards in Rowle's study just down the hall. Any one of them could wander through the door and find her. She would be wise to continue with the pretense that she was Blair, and American witch doing trivial things such as twirling her hair while she read the articles in a popular magazine.

* * *

Thorfinn cast a glance as he watched his witch walk away. He hid it well, but he was shocked. The little lion had kissed him, and while he knew it was just for show, she still pressed her lips against his. And it was bliss. All he could think in those few seconds was that her lips felt good touching is and how badly he wanted to pull her onto his lap and deepen that kiss.

The woman was a vixen. And she managed to surprise him at every turn. He was fiercely proud of her. She had conquered her fear, and faced off a whole evening with five of the worst deatheaters out there and she didn't let her disgust show.

The wizard knew that she had gotten her fun out of it to, teasing him, but moreover acting like a spoiled brat in their presence and mocking them without making it obvious that she was doing so.

Not for the first time since she arrived, he found himself very happy that his witch was a Gryffindor, but he doubted the hat's judgement on her placement to. She had many Slytherin traits in her, and she would have done exceedingly well in that house, had she not been muggle-born.

Actually Thorfinn felt that his witch was an enigma, she possessed the traits of all of the houses, all at the forefront of her personality, and no skill was more prevalent than the others they just took turns showing through.

She was brave like a Gryffindor for sure, she had helped Potter defeat Voldemort and still stood here facing the late dark lord's noble followers. She was cunning, sneaky and manipulative like a Slytherin, able to come up with clever and witty remarks and play her opponents like a fiddle, with a calm and stony exterior. But she was kind and loyal to like a Hufflepuff, she genuinely cared about other people before she cared about her own wellbeing. And she was Intelligent beyond belief, she loved her books and to learn and she was a know-it-all like no other, a Ravenclaw at heart as well. The little witch possessed the main traits of all the houses and that was very rare.

"So where'd you find that one Thor?" asked Draco.

"Were you even paying attention earlier? We met years ago in America." Thor sarcastically replied.

"I know that, I simply meant that it's not like you to settle down. I mean you have always played witches, fucked 'em then sent them packing." The blonde explained.

"I hadn't found a witch worthy of settling down. Until Blair. She drove me crazy when I met her, but somehow she just managed to dig her nails under my skin enough to be a girl I couldn't stop thinking about."

"I wanted to marry her five years ago before I even left, but the witch wouldn't give me the time of day."

"You are a lucky man. That one is a looker," Said Dolohov.

"And she is amusing," added Rabastan.

"That witch has a sassy attitude and she would do well to learn her place," Walden Macnair commented bitterly.

"Ah, you're just pissy because you somehow lost your own toy and you can't find her." Retorted Antonin to the irritated wizard.

"Since you have never been married before, I could give you pointers," prompted Nott Sr.

"I'll thank you Nott to know that I am not a wizard who needs pointers on how to deal with a witch. Blair and I have an understanding, and if she thinks for one minute that her behavior tonight will go undiscussed the little swot will learn a thing or to. But she is a breath of fresh air in this stuffy old mansion and she is just the witch to bring it to life." Thorfinn replied coldly.

"You have got it bad." Observed the youngest wizard again.

"Maybe I do." Thorfinn did not disagree. "Was there business for us to discuss or were you all just going to sit around talking about my fiancée?"

"The later, obviously. What fun is talking about work when you have a piece of ass to make conversation for fun?" Rabastan commented, laughing. He was met with the steely glare of Thorfinn. "Sorry mate, but really she is beautiful."

"Is there any new developments worth mentioning, or can I go and take Blair to bed?" Thorfinn finally shouted at the group. He was getting irritated at the incessant jibes and derogatory jokes made at his witch's expense. And he was becoming increasingly worried that one of the fools would wander off to find her.

"Oh there it is. Thor's staking his claim. We'd best go." Draco announced laughing. The other wizards agreed.

A short while later the guests had finished their drinks and Thorfinn saw them out. Then he stormed up the stairs to hunt down Hermione.

* * *

She had heard Thorfinn shouting in the study. She couldn't make out the words just that it was his voice and it had gotten loud. Apparently his infamous temper was once again raging. Minutes later she heard the footsteps go downstairs and him kicking the deatheaters out for the night. She sighed in relief.

Tossing the dumb magazine to the side she hauled herself out of bed and retreated for the library. She curled up in her favorite spot by the fire with a muggle book that she had always loved, Sense and Sensibility. It was the only Jane Austin novel that she found she enjoyed.

It didn't take long for her to get absorbed into the words, and she was lost when Thorfinn entered the library.

He smiled as he saw her, but then a worry passed through him and he confronted his witch.

"How long have you been here?" He asked accusatorily.

"Like ten minutes Rowle." Came the sarcastic reply from Hermione, and she didn't even pause in her reading. This annoyed him.

"Look at me would you," he demanded.

Moments later the witch shot her a glare over the book.

"You did awesome, tonight." He said gently.

"Oh good. I'm so glad I met your approval," Hermione stated dryly. Thorfinn sighed, before marching over, snatching the book out of her grasp and setting it on the table. "What the hell!"

"Just to let you know Hermione. That was not our first kiss." He stated firmly. She raised her eyes in challenge.

"As if you're getting another kiss from me," she huffed. He smirked his best Slytherin grin. Oh Hermione, he though, you should know better than to challenge a Slytherin. He grabbed her upper arms in his hands and pulled her from the sofa. When she was on her feet, he tipped her head up to look into her eyes, and not wasting a second more or asking permission, crashed his lips down onto her.

He was met with her closed lips, but he increased the pressure of the kiss and pulled the witch closer to him as he increased the intensity.

Hermione gasped, and opened her mouth allowing his tongue access. He tangled his with hers and groaned into her mouth. He pressed her closer to her body, and delighted when she wrapped her arms around his back. She was too short to reach his neck. Taking this as a sign of encouragement, he lifted her up, so that he wouldn't have to lean down to keep their lips locked. When he lifted her it allowed him to deepen the kiss even more, and Hermione moaned. Now able to reach his neck, she tangled her hands in his hair, pulling his face closer, and she wrapped her short legs around him.

He backed her into the wall, and broke the kiss to layer kisses along her jawline and her neck. He felt the witch melt against him. He pulled back to look at her, and she opened her eyes. He smirked.

"That was our first kiss." He stated.

"Some kiss." She replied. "Now put me down."

He did. And sat back down on the sofa. She grabbed his hand and pulled him down next to her.

"I was scared." She confessed.

'I know. I was to."

"They are awful. How can you serve people like that?" She asked.

"I don't have a choice. It's a survival tactic, princess."

"I know, I just, I see you Finn." She said, slipping up and calling him by the nickname, he allowed nobody to call him. Except her, he liked his witch calling him Finn. "I see the real you, and I almost can't believe it. You were an ass to me in school, and then an enemy. Now, I don't know how I'm supposed to see you. But I don't see evil. Not like I did before."

"I don't feel evil. I feel ashamed." He admitted. Sharing more with her than he had anybody.

"You should. For the things you did before, but you shouldn't, not for what you did today. Not for protecting me."

"I don't hate you princess." He said, restating the promise he had made when he first brought her here. "I somehow can't hate you. Something about you makes me want to protect you. Something about you makes me wish I could have you." He said.

"You make me feel safe." Hermione confided, "I shouldn't and I fight my old self on that. My old self reminds me that you are a deatheater, you tried to kill me and before that my tormentor. I should hate you and fear you. But I don't."

"I don't want you to fear me."

"I know. Because I see you. And that is what I'm fighting myself on. A huge chunk of myself is fighting the change I see in you, the changes I see in myself, and telling me it's wrong, but the rest of me, doesn't want to hate you anymore."

"So don't." he said as if it were simple. She scooted closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder.

"It's not as easy as that."

"I know. I fight myself to. Part of me thinks I'm mad for wanting to protect you, for risking my own life to do so, but the person I want to be sees more than what I was raised to see in you. We are at war with ourselves."

"So it seems." She said.

"Hermione, I hate your new face. I shouldn't say that, but I do." He blurted suddenly and she laughed.

"I hate it to. I thought you would like it." Hermione giggled.

"You picked your face because you thought I would like it?" He asked dumfounded.

"Well, yes. I mean you're the one who has to look at it. I'm not going to be happy, with anything less than my normal features, so I picked something one of us might enjoy seeing." She explained logically.

"Funny that, princess, because I like you the way you should be, all freckles and button nose, whiskey eyes and energetically frizzy hair, fiery sassy mouthed witch. Anything less than that isn't the witch I want."

"So you didn't kiss me because you like the new body?" She asked in stunned wonder. He had described her features the way she saw herself, not the way everyone else in the world did.

"No, I kissed you because I was proud of how well you did tonight, and because I wanted to." Thorfinn replied.

"I've only been waiting seven years for you to kiss me. I had a crush on you in first year you know." She said softly and blushed. Thorfinn brought his lips to Hermione's again, effectively ending the heart to heart with a good snog session.

While they kissed Hermione lost touch with her brain momentarily, but come morning her thoughts would once again be taking over and she knew she would have a battle to fight.


	8. Chapter 8

**(IMPORTANT) A/N: Just another reminder to any potential reviewers or readers who share the concern. ANY SIMILARITIES you see in the interactions, backstory, or relationship between Thorfinn and Hermione do belong to Canimal and (Freya Ishtar and Kittenshift17 also have stories using the same traits) and I DO have her written consent to use them here. I did not steal, or copy them and I do not intent to use the characters in any way to replicate one of their already fantastically written fics. I simply am branching out my own story with the traits I fell in love with in theirs and I do fully recognize their hard work. I would appreciate any future concerns of this nature be left out of the reviews and handled through Private message. Thank You. And Thank you to all of my dedicate fans for all the love you have shown the story.**

* * *

"Curse you sun." She muttered aloud and rolled over to burrow her face into her pillow and avoid the beaming light that was shining through the blinds and making her head ache. Okay, perhaps it wasn't the sun making her head ache, she admitted that she had been in an alcohol infused stupor the night before. As she moved her face aware from the offending light, she was greeted by a solid, lumpy pillow that was chuckling. "Shhhhh. Still sleeping." Hermione muttered making herself comfortable. Until the moment of realization hit her.

Pillows were not supposed to chuckle. Nor were they supposed to be lumpy. She sat up with a start to see Thorfinn lazily looking at her, his chest bare.

"Rowle." She began, "what did we do last night?"

"We had a dinner party princess." He chuckled. She wacked him on his chest.

"Rowle!" The witch exclaimed. "I know that you dumb Viking. What did we do after?"

"You wound me by using my surname Princess. We made out." He explained. She whacked him again.

"Yes I remember that much! How did we end up in bed together?"

"Oh that." He said. "Why didn't you just specify that in the first place? You fell asleep after about the sixth shot of Ogden's. I carried you back to bed, but there was no way I was getting to your room and back to mine, so I just took you to mine. We slept."

"So we didn't, erm…."

"No princess. We did not. We just slept. Until you woke me up by snuggling into me. Then cursing the sun."

"Shut up. My head hurts." Hermione whined, relived that they hadn't done more. Not that she was opposed to the idea of more with him, but she wanted to be sober when they did.

"Drinking will do that. Hang tight. I'll bring you a hangover potion. Then we need to see about feeding you."

"Finn?" She asked.

"Hmmmmm," he hummed in reply.

"Did you want to do more?" she blurted and then flushed. Thorfinn froze from his upright position on the large bed. What was she asking him?

"You know I did princess." He replied honestly. "But I think it's a bit soon, yeah?"

"Yeah." She agreed. He smiled at her disappointed expression. Then he leaned in and kissed her forehead softly.

"Lay back down princess. I'll bring you the potion." He murmured into her hair. She didn't hesitate a second longer and laid her face back down into the pillow. He got out of bed and padded softly across the floor and out of his bedroom. He instructed Moppy to bring them both breakfast in bed, and then went into his study in search of the hangover relief potion that was his godsend this last week with Hermione.

* * *

He had been awake for at least an hour before she even began to stir. He had been surprised to have her laying atop of him. She was clinging to him as if he were a giant teddy bear and snoring softly. She had been adorable. Thorfinn just held her close, relishing the feel of finally holding his witch in his arms, and watched her sleep.

He had been worried that she would be furious when she woke, expected her to be really. But she surprised him. The witch was always surprising him. Instead of flying into a rage at him for waking up not only in his bed, but snuggled up to him, she just scooted closer and asked if he wanted to do more.

Of course he wanted to do bloody more, and probably would have tried in their state last night had the witch not fallen asleep on him. A fact he was extremely grateful for! First of all, they had shit they needed to work out. They couldn't go from hating each other to sleeping together, it just wouldn't lead anywhere good. She was his witch and he damned well wanted to keep her that way, to keep her here.

He couldn't really explain his sudden possessiveness of the younger witch, all he knew was he would do anything to protect her and to keep her by his side.

Sleeping with her would muddle everything up. And not to mention her appearance. Thorfinn didn't want to sleep with Blair, he wanted Hermione. So while she was living underfoot, and he had been trying and failing to avoid her, they had somehow gone and grown closer. But drunk confessions did not a relationship make.

He needed to talk to his witch. He endeavored to do so later that day. Pocketing the potions he strode back to his room. He groaned when he saw her. His little witch was curled up, on his side of the bed, holding his pillow closely to her chest and snoring lightly. She was so damned cute.

He drew the blinds on the window a little tighter and then scooted into the bed next to her gently nudging her awake.

"I have the magic potion." He said and grinned.

"Urgh," She grunted. "Give it," She said with grabby hands. Thorfinn chuckled and jerked the potion away from her playfully. "Finn!"

"I think that if I give you this, you should give me something in return." He said.

"What?" she mumbled.

"A kiss."

'I think I gave you plenty of those last night. Now give me the potion." The witch commented. But she leaned in and pecked him on his lips. "But I happen to like kissing you."

Thorfinn was done for. He felt an odd sense of pride and warmth at her statement and wanted nothing more than to pull Hermione onto his lap and hold her.

"I like kissing you to," he replied. "Open up." He ordered. When she opened her mouth he tipped the slightly pink hued potion back and dumbed its contents down her throat. The witch sighed as it immediately began to take effect. Then her stomach growled.

"I'm hungry." She stated. A second later Moppy appeared with a breakfast tray. "It seems your elves just know." She added upon the new arrival. The elf in question, set a silver tray down over Hermione's lap, and lifted the lid.

"An omelet made with spinach and feta, three slices of bacon, two sausage links, and of course a fruit salad. Pumpkin juice and tea to drink." Moppy squeaked and then turned a disapproving frown on her, "I expect you to eat it all you need it after last night Missy." Hermione groaned as the elf disapparated and Thorfinn burst into laughter.

"Moppy was my caretaker as a child," he explained through his fit "she is very protective and motherly, so she means it when she says you will eat it."

"If she is your protective elf why wasn't she scolding you?" His witch reproached him with a glare.

"Because princess, first of all, I hold my liquor a hell of a lot better than you apparently do, and because I told her she needs to look after you now." Hermione flushed at that. Moppy reappeared and after setting a tray of his own in front of Thorfinn, stood on the bed hovering over Hermione and gave her an angry look.

"Eat! Eat it now." She demanded of the witch. Hermione obeyed. Satisfied Moppy disappeared again.

"You know," Hermione mused in between mouthfuls, "If her voice wasn't so squeaky and she didn't have long ears she would remind me of Professor Snape." Thorfinn tried to hold in his laugh, for the sake of his old head of house, but failed and gave a way a small chuckle.

"Aye that she would. She does have the knack to give us a look that says heed me heed me now." It was Hermione's turn to laugh.

"What are we doing here Finn?" she asked eventually, after clearing her plate.

"I don't know." He sighed. "I like you Hermione. I more than Like you, but I don't know."

"I know the feeling. It's like I'm very fond of you and I want to be around you, getting to know you, and…" She cut of flushing before finishing "Kissing you and stuff. But I can't come up with an understanding as to why, as to why I trust you and am able to let go and just be me around you, when our entire past relationship we were pitted against the other. It doesn't seem natural." She voiced.

"Exactly. I can't tell you when I started thinking of you differently, when in the past if I thought of you at all, it was about how much I would have liked to have humiliated you in some way, pay you back for everything you did, but yet here I am not only protecting you, but wanting to put my life on the line to save you and…" He stopped himself before he could finish the sentence he was about to say.

"And," she prompted.

"You won't like it princess." He said honestly.

"Thorfinn, I'm sure there are a hundred things I could come up with that are worse then what you are keeping from me now, that you have either done before or wanted to do. And all of them are still better than what my situation would be if Macnair had me."

"I consider you mine." He confessed.

"Your what?" she asked struck dumb by his admission.

"My witch. I consider you my witch, it's possessive and more than a little sexist and very wrong, but I still think of you as mine." He said.

Hermione smiled at him. She realized in that instant that Finn really truly cared for her. And she thought it was really sweet that he seemed to be struggling with the fact that he wanted her but didn't want her to be upset by that. She scooted her tray away from her and moved across the bed to wrap her arms around him in a hug.

"Awwww Finn. I like you to." She cooed. He didn't respond other to engulf her in his arms.

"So where does that leave us?" the blonde wizard eventually mumbled.

"I think it means that we are two people who care for one another and despite being in abad circumstance that we are trying to get to know one another better." She replied.

"Thank you for stating the Obvious, Princess. I mean where how to we go about getting to know one another better given the bad situation?"

"Well I agree to put the past behind us from here on out. You are the person I see before me now, not my school tormentor, not my enemy across the battlefield. I agree to forget the history between us and concentrate on getting to know this side of you better if you will."

"Fine. I agree that I will forget all the times you cock blocked me, every time you landed me in detention, the time you almost got me expelled, and the time you oblviated me in that muggle café. I will no longer see you as the girl who was the bane of my existence and see you only as the witch I'm growing to really like now that I understand her a bit better."

"Great. Then I have a question for you."

"What?" He asked exasperated.

"Thorfinn Rowle will you be my boyfriend?" she asked sassily but with all seriousness.

"Yes Princess. I'll be your boyfriend." He replied and she kissed him.

"Just so you know though, I'm still going to be the bossy know-it-all swot that is the bane of your existence." She said breaking the kiss minutes later.

'I didn't expect anything else." He replied with a sigh. "And I don't expect it to be all smooth sailing from here."

"Oh no. I'm sure it won't be. But the important thing is that we agree that we can set the majority of our differences aside and just see where our newfound mutual affections lead. I can't blame you for the things did in war even if I feel you fought on the wrong side. You did what you had to, to survive."

"I still am, but this time I chose to help you." He mumbled.

"This time you are helping because you oversee a political program that you do not agree with and see horrible things happen to good people all day. This time you are different and this time your nor in fear of a megalomaniac dictating your life. I'm not saying that it isn't dangerous what you are doing here, but this time you have more freedom to choose."

"If you say so." He mumbled again and Hermione saw the fear in his eyes. She pulled him close and held him.

"It will be okay Finn." She said with sudden finality. Thorfinn just let himself feel comforted by her embrace. He knew then that whatever he felt for her was far beyond liking her. It was something more. He was afraid of what that might be though. He was afraid of losing her.

* * *

While the newfound couple cuddled in bed that morning they didn't spare a thought for their dinner guests the night before. However said Guests thought of little else but the pair.

Draco was enamored by Blair, she had spunk and was a breath of fresh air and he could see himself becoming friends with her. He found himself looking forward to setting aside time to teach her a little bit more of Britain's wizarding politics. However something seemed odd about her to, it felt to him like on some level he knew her. He couldn't place from where though.

Rabastan was lusting after her. She was a hot piece of ass and she didn't seem to give two craps about the customs he also found stuffy. He pondered that morning how he might seduce her into his own bed, and found himself wishing that somehow he could convince the witch to leave Rowle.

Antonin was less interested in the girl than he was in Rowle's sudden introduction. He had spent the whole previous morning with him, not to mention several nights in the past week, and the wizard had not said a word. It struck him odd because as a man with two wives, he not only flaunted them but he referred to their existence regularly. He especially liked to brag about how much sex he had. Most other wizards Antonin knew were much the same, yet Thorfinn had not once mentioned his engagement or his infatuation with an overseas witch. His curiosity was spiked.

Nott Sr. was concentrated on the brashness of the girl and he felt insulted. The girl was outspoken, and while perhaps an intellectual, she knew nothing of the world's politics and the customs she did understand she brazenly brushed off and causally offended every tradition he prided himself on following. His thoughts turned to the things he would do to his wives had they ever behaved in such a fashion and planned on telling young Rowle just how a witch should be punished. Nott wanted to do it himself, but he wouldn't take the honor of breaking Rowle's future bride, that was the other wizard's job. But Nott would instruct him that doing so was a duty he must follow because Nott would not suffer another episode from that witch in silence again.

Macnair on the other hand was suspicious. There was something about how the witch had reacted to the wizards the night before that caught his attention. He saw the masked fear the girl wore the entire time she was in their presence had done everything he could to make her more uncomfortable without giving it away. He thought that it seemed like rather coincidental timing that Rowle had himself a beautiful young Fiancé just as Walden's prize had gone missing. The Tall blonde wizard had been with him and Nott at drinks the week prior as Macnair spoke of his bird and what he planned to do with her. And then poof, she was gone and an otherwise unattached wizard had a sudden engagement. How convenient. Of course Macnair couldn't prove a damned thing but he endeavored to discover the truth. He smelled something fishy and he would hunt down the source of the stench until the secrets laid exposed and barren before him. He just had to figure out his best course of action.

Five dark wizards spent their mornings overthinking the dinner the night before. What had been expected to be a simple night of drinking and business turned into a whirlwind with a new arrival, a sudden engagement and strangely lively young American witch. The same question each wizard in turn was thinking was just who is Blair Nightshade and how do we get to know her better?

Thorfinn and Hermione knew of course that they had their work cut out for them. Firstly a new relationship between them was going to have it's up and downs but add to that mess that they were playing at deceiving five very dark wizards, plotting to overthrow a government policy if not the whole government (and doing so without access to rebel forces), and hiding a wanted fugitive in plain sight of the men who wanted her in custody the pair had just started a very dangerous game.

There was going to be blood, sweat and tears involved. They were about to start World war three and they had no idea how they were going to pull it off, they both just knew they needed to. Thorfinn wanted to protect his witch if nothing more and Hermione was a Gryffindor who stood up against wrongdoers. She would not spend her life running and hiding or worse enslaved to the people she had grown up fighting against. She had helped defeat one lunatic who sought to kill her because of her blood, now she would bring down that madman's followers who sought to control the world.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I know I didn't get a chance to update last week, and I'm sorry but I decided to take a small break from writing over the weekend to spend some time with family and I had to work as well. So I am sorry for the delay, but here is chapter 9 now, and I will try to get in an extra update later this week. Thanks to all of my readers and reviewers who stick with the story and give me their heartfelt comments and support. And thank you to Not Romeo's Juliette for betaing this fic.**

* * *

As it turned out, starting Wizarding War three was much less involved than Hermione would have thought. This was a political war, more so than the last one was. While Voldemort had craved power and sought to get it any way he could, he used his magic and that of others as a weapon and he wielded his wand like a loaded gun. This was going to be a war of wits. There was no doubt who held the power in this world and what they did to those who did not have power and who posed a problem to the authority. This was a war that would be fought by infiltrating the inside of the ranks and converting those who held power currently to have sympathy and act on it for the resistance, for lack of a better term. Hermione would be using her mind and her words far more than she had in the last battle.

And Hermione started to do so with tea. It was the Wednesday following the horrid dinner party and the more delicious wake-up she received by snuggling up with Thorfinn, and as agreed upon Draco Malfoy would be arriving for afternoon tea to further their acquaintance.

Hermione rolled her eyes at that concept. She had been in school with him for six years and then saved his arse in the room of requirement from the fiendfyre during the Final Battle at Hogwarts. She was pretty sure she knew most of what there was to his personality and it wasn't one she had ever cared for. However, gritting her teeth, she reminded herself that Blair wouldn't know him very well at all, and that she would have to not only pretend to be getting to know the pompous arse, but she would have to pretend to be fascinated and to like him. She would have to befriend Draco Malfoy…

The thought alone was distasteful. And honestly Hermione was on edge. She was nail bitingly nervous because she did know Draco, and Draco knew Hermione, and if he saw through this disguise she was done for.

"What are you up to Princess?" Thorfinn drawled from the doorway to the library where she was pacing back and forth.

"Tea." She responded.

"That doesn't look like tea," Thorfinn retorted teasingly.

"Shut up." She hissed, and he smirked crossing his arms across his chest and staring at her. Something obviously had her worked up.

"Princess." He said again.

"What?" she said in exasperation.

"What is wrong?"

"I have tea with Malfoy today that is what is wrong."

"You worried about him?" Thorfinn asked his witch, concerned.

"No, yes, I don't know," she sighed. "On one hand I always was able to handle Draco, his arrogance makes him predictable, however on the other hand, he is as close to the minister as one can get, and he has the irritating tendency to go running to daddy for anything that doesn't go his way. And I can't have him figuring anything out."

"Hermione, Princess, I wouldn't be worried if I were you. You performed brilliantly at dinner last week and you will be fine today. If five deatheaters can believe that act then you can handle one wimpy deatheater on his own." Thorfinn said trying to comfort her. It had the opposite effect than intended.

"Are you so sure Finn, that it was believable?" Hermione asked. "Because I'm not. You may recall that I spent a lot of time running from people like them, yourself included at one point, so I know a thing or two about when deatheaters are clueless and when they are just biding their time. And not all of them were completely falling for the act."

"Who?"

"Well, Macnair for one, he isn't as dumb as he pretends to be, Dolohov for another, he seemed too interested and I know that I, The Hermione I, have been an object of fascination for him since he cursed me in fifth year. From what I recall he isn't that highly interested in too many people."

"Fuck." Thorfinn growled.

"Yes. Now I'm not saying that they can see through the glamor and know that it is me here, but I'm just letting you know that we have to be very careful because that story didn't cut it for them and with enough suspicion they will go digging. If they dig far enough they will find that there is nothing there."

"Fuck." Thorfinn cursed again. "Princess, why are you just now telling me this?"

"Because it just now occurred to me." She sighed. "I have to get ready for tea." She said and she pushed passed him. Thorfinn followed her to her room and stood outside the closed door. Eventually he retreated into his study.

 _"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck"_ repeating in his mind over and over. The dark wizard found himself resisting the temptation to reach for the Ogden's sitting in his desk. It was almost empty and while the witch drove him to drink more often than he cared to admit, he was trying to save it for when he really needed it. Hermione didn't drive him to drink because he was angry with her, or exasperated or even because she knowingly did anything, though those emotions were all under the surface as well, it was because of his fear for her safety. Every time she widened her eyes in fear, every time she said one of his comrade's names, every time she mentioned the war or her friends, he was instantly reminded of the danger she was in, and the existence he wanted to shelter her from. It was a choice between masking his instinct, or acting on the impulse to wrap her in his arms and lock them in a room together hiding out from the whole world, which is what he wanted. He wanted to hold his witch.

* * *

While Thorfinn was resisting the urge to pour himself a tumbler full of firewhiskey, not that he had enough left, Hermione was showering in her bedroom suite. The younger witch was letting the scalding water ease her tense muscles and allowing herself to relax and just be for a moment. She couldn't very well pull of her act of being Blair if she was tense. Draco would see right through that in any case.

The moment she stepped out of the shower she channeled what she had come to think of as her inner Blair. Naturally her own thoughts, fears, hopes and dreams were still present in her mind, her same personality, quirks and mannerisms that made her Hermione, but she had learned to separate those traits from the ones her other half would exhibit. Blair was quite a bit more ambitious, cruder, outgoing and bitchier than Hermione was, and Blair was quite vain as well. Instead of analyzing the traits that Blair would have as a separate entity, Hermione adopted them. And so when Blair was occupying a scene, Hermione was pushed back and hidden away, she didn't even let her own thoughts thorough.

Now granted, Hermione had only ever practiced this technique with herself at night or when Thorfinn was away on _business_ , as she referred to his job as it was a large pink elephant in the middle of their relationship, so she wasn't sure how well this strategy would work in the long run, but she crossed her fingers and prayed to merlin that it would keep any suspicion at bay.

So for all intents and purposes when Hermione stepped out of the shower, she was no longer Hermione Granger, she was Blair Nightshade.

Blair stood in front of her wardrobe and flicked through the clothes there making frowning faces. Eventually she selected a cashmere sweater dress that fell about five inches above her knees in a color so white it reminded her of snow. She thought that her knee high black heeled boots would complement the soft and fuzzy dress. She completed the outfit with an onyx choker and pearl bracelet. She hummed softly in approval when she glanced at her get-up in the mirror.

She heard the chime that was a doorbell of sorts, the announcement that a wizard had passed through the wards of the gate to Rowle mansion and waited outside the door. She bided her time for a minute longer and then went out in search of Finn. Draco could wait a moment.

She didn't knock when she arrived at the door to his study just walked in to see Finn staring resentfully at an almost empty bottle of Ogden's. He glanced up at her with an unreadable expression. She raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I had come to ask if you wished to join me at tea this afternoon. But I can see that clearly you are quite busy brooding." She huffed. He glared at her, and a crack of aparation impeded any words he might have said. Probably for the best. An elf that Hermione, no Blair, vaguely recognized stood shaking in the doorway. She had become so used to Moppy bossing her around that seeing another elf always came as a surprise.

"Bop is sorry for interrupting Mistress Blair, but you have a guest waiting in the tearoom." The high pitched voice stated.

"Thank you, Bop. Please let Lord Malfoy know that I will be down directly." Blair acknowledged with a nod and a dismissive wave of her hand that would have been very out of character for her if she wasn't allowing herself to focus on anything other than her act. Bop apparated away immediately. Blair turned her head back to Thorfinn. She crossed the room and kissed his cheek softly before whispering to him. "Do have fun with your brooding dear." She existed the room swiftly and didn't catch the cross glare that Thorfinn shot at her.

* * *

Blair's heels echoed as she made her way down the stairs and the foyer hall to the brightly furnished tea room. She had a charming smile on her face and even as she opened the door Draco Malfoy rose from the seat and stood in a formal greeting. Blair giggled.

"Hullo Draco. Please accept my apology for keeping you waiting."

"Of course Blair. But may I ask what is so funny?" The blonde replied a puzzled expression on his handsome features. _Wait, what, Ewe, Draco Malfoy is NOT handsome!_ raged her inner Hermione before Blair could successfully squash her.

"Oh, well nothing really, I just still find myself taken aback by wizards standing when I enter or leave a room. It's not as highly practiced in America."

"Our stuffy British customs?" Draco inquired with a chuckle, teasing her for her outburst at the dinner party.

"Oh yes, I often do not think before I allow words to leave my mouth. It was unfair to criticize your customs so." She replied demurely.

"Indeed." He replied and then said "In my opinion Blair, anywhere that a wizard does not stand to show his respect and appreciation for a witch when she arrives is a place that chivalry is dead. I assure you, that as unused to it as you may be, that is not the case here in England."

"Chivalry, truly is not a concept most young wizards understand well at home you know."

"Ah, but if you recall, as the soon to be newest addition to the Rowle family, this is now your home," reminded Draco.

"Yes, I suppose that it is." Blair sighed. "Though I am an American at heart." She said with a grin, which caused Draco to turn his nose up arrogantly.

A crack sounded in the tea room and Bop appeared with a silver tray which carried two teacups and saucers, a porcelain tea kettle, a cup of sugar and canister of cream as well as a tea sampler set.

"An American you may be Blair, but you serve tea in a very English fashion." Draco commented airily.

"I believe you would have Bop here to thank for that, I had no part in this display before us."

"Mistress what kind of tea would you like?" Bop asked suddenly, pointing at the tea sampler of at least 5 different kinds of loose leaf tea.

"I find I have a weakness for the orange blend Bop." She replied. And Bop filled her tea cup with the leaves and poured hot water out of them.

"And you my lord?" Blair asked politely. He looked imploringly at the elf.

"The choices elf?" He said icily.

"Bop is sorry Master Malfoy. We have a Blood orange, a Darjeeling, Earl Grey and lavender, raspberry and vanilla chai." Bop squeaked.

"I'll indulge with the Darjeeling this afternoon, now chop, chop." Draco replied. The elf filled his cup with the leaves and disapparated suddenly.

"I can't say I was expecting that choice," Blair confessed. The wizard raised his eyebrow.

"Why do you say that?"

"I pegged you for a wizard who would enjoy the Earl Grey." She replied.

"I must say that I do often indulge in that blend, but alas I have a weakness for Darjeeling and I do not much care for lavender."

"What a perfectly acceptable choice then." She said.

"So Blair. You wanted to know about British wizarding politics did you not?" Draco began the conversation.

"I did. As I mentioned at dinner last week, as I newcomer I only have the limited knowledge of current events here from what I have read in the prophet and heard in America."

"I can only imagine what the Americans have to say." Draco said tersely.

"I can't say it's all good."

"I suppose the easiest way to do this to have you tell me what you do know."

"Well…" Blair began, "I know that there was a recent war in which the dark lord that I believe that mark on your arm signifies you followed, was defeated by the other side's savior. However before said defeat the Ministry was overthrown. Now your father Lord Malfoy, serves as the head of this government, the Minister I believe he still calls himself." Blair said and her inner Hermione did not miss the cringe that crossed his features when she pointed out his dark mark.

"Correct."

"In the years that your father has held his position, he has strayed away from the policies that the former dark lord had in his plans. Where once your lot served, and forgive me I don't mean offense of any kind I am after all a neutral third party, where you and the other followers terrorized no-mage borns and no-mage's alike seeking to eradicate no-mage-borns from your society, now these muggle-borns hold a place in your world, however low ranking it may be." Blair finished, once again catching Draco's confused expression and thanking high heavens the book she read on American Wizarding customs gave her the differing cultural terms for muggles.

"Yes mudbloods do serve a purpose, at least the ones that didn't fight against the former Dark Lord." Draco replied, purposefully using the insulting term. "However, my father does still hold true to heart that those of pureblood should be in power and that those of inferior birth should not have access to that power. As do I."

"I see. Well your father also has restricted access to the no-mage world, imposing a ban of sorts. Where of course most no-mage's don't know of our world in the first place, but now your father is separating all current no-mage borns from their no-mage families, they either choose to exist within the new laws of your society or the forsake their magic altogether. There are rumors in America that he seeks to foster any future no-mage's borns within the wizarding world and cutting off no-mage's from this society all together." Now Draco just stared at her a very confused expression a permeant fixture on his face.

"I'm really sorry Blair, I think I follow what you are saying but I can't be sure. What in the name of Merlin is a no-mage?" Draco finally asked.

"A no-mage? It's a non-magical person." Blair explained.

"Oh, we call them muggles here, muggles and mudbloods." Draco replied.

"Oh. Well of course I will try to use the correct term then."

"You are also correct on the point that my father is imposing a ban. As of now, mudbloods may choose to serve in whatever position is deemed suitable here or they are obliviated and returned to their muggle families who are also oblivaited and live the rest of their lives as muggles." Draco said proudly. "However as of yet, there is no cause for the rumors of fostering mudbloods."

Blair took this opportunity to pick up her tea and charm it so that the leaves were discarded. Draco cocked his head at that so she explained. "In America tea leaves are separated from the tea before serving. Otherwise it tends to become bitter. And it is a very interesting policy your father has imposed."

Draco nodded and dropped in three sugar cubes and a dash of cream and mixing it. "I can't imagine a cup of tea without the leaves in it, it simply wouldn't be a proper cuppa." He sneered.

"You are naturally intended to your opinion Draco." At that moment Thorfinn opened the doors and entered the room.

"Hullo Malfoy." He greeted.

"Rowle."

"How are the lessons going darling?" He said and leaned down to kiss Blair's cheek.

"They are proving to be enlightening."

"Ah Rowle, I have a gift for you." Draco piped in.

Thorfinn looked at him and his dimples rose as the other wizard pulled out a full bottle of expensive Ogden's from his coat pocket. "Since we nearly cleaned out your stash last week."

"Thank you Draco." Thorfinn replied.

"Your welcome." He replied.

"Come to join us for tea Finn?" Blair asked.

"No, no my dear. I just wanted to tell you that we were invited to dinner tonight, but you had mentioned that you wanted to stay in earlier, so what would you like to do?"

"Who invited us to dinner?"

"Lord Dolohov." Thorfinn replied.

"Oh. Well I am of course honored with the invitation, Finn, but I really had not planned on venturing out tonight. I have other plans involving you tonight." She said and raised her eyebrows suggestively. Draco sputtered on his tea but recovered quickly.

"I will decline the invitation my dear. Come and find me when you have finished your tea." Finn said retreating with the bottle of Ogden's.

Before he completely made it to the door Blair called over her shoulder. "Not one drop Thorfinn Rowle, or you will see just how suddenly plans can change." She saw the tall muscular wizards shoulder slump. And she knew it wasn't all in mock defeat.

Draco chuckled, and Blair turned her attention back to him.

As they pair drank their tea they continued the invigorating discussion about mudbloods, and eventually as they emptied their teacups, parted ways with the agreement to do it once more. Blair went off in search of Thorfinn, and Draco disapparated back to his own manor.

* * *

Draco had been asked by the overbearing, head execution for his father and well known death eater Walden Macnair to look into the girl. And as he paced his study at the manor, he put his thoughts together on what he would report. It seemed that Macnair was suspicious of the witch, and had it in his mind that the timing of her arrival was all too convenient for Rowle. Draco simply thought that Macnair had his head up his arse and was moping over the loss of his own prize and would, as idiots were known to, bark up the wrong tree. And Macnair may not be an idiot per say, but he was lazy and quick to find a scapegoat for his own mistakes, a tendency that dated back to serving the Dark Lord. Macnair survived by turning on other's and had been successful, it only made sense that the behaviors would continue, and that is the only reason he had agreed to report on the girl.

"Longbottom!" Draco shouted from the study and a moment later the thin, shaking and battered frame of Neville Longbottom crawled through the doorway.

'Yes master?" the boy asked, and Draco smirked.

"Fetch me a quill and parchment, I have an owl to send."

"Of course master." The voice sounded again and Neville slinked away.

Draco sighed. He had played every card he had, to coax any suspicion he may have had out of the witch. He referred to muggleborns and mudblood, he belittled the witch for her culture and her way, he was a snob and he was rude to the elf. He was sure that if nothing else that one would get a rise out of her if she was even remotely like Granger. But the witch didn't even bat an eye at any of it.

While Draco still thought Macnair was making wild assumptions about Thorfinn's fiancé, he did still find something about the girl peculiar. But he no longer believed that there was any way the girl was Granger. And he was going to tell the other wizard as much.

Neville reappeared on his hands and knees with the parchment and quill in his mouth.

"Good pet, Longbottom. Go run off and do whatever it is you do all day." Draco said with a sneer as he took the items and scourfied them of the drool.

 _Macnair,_

 _Had tea with Miss. Nightshade today. Despite my best efforts to draw any traits of the mudblood out of her, the girl didn't react. She isn't your bird and I suggest you start looking elsewhere for her before Rowle finds out you were investigating her._

 _DM_

He attached the letter to his eagle owl and sent it off into the darkening sky.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thank you for all of the Love you guys are showing the story. I know that I had hoped to get an extra chapter up last week and due to coming down with a bad cold didn't get around to writing much. For the same reasons this chapter is shorter than usual, I just don't seem to have the energy to draw it out more, so I do hope that enjoy chapter 10 and hopefully chapter 11 won't be too much longer. And as always kudos to Not Romeo's Juliet for being my beta.**

* * *

The moment Draco departed the mansion, Hermione sighed heavily and finally let go of Blair's persona and slipped back into her usual self. Then she started up the stairs and towards Thorfinn's study where she assumed to still find him brooding. However he wasn't there. So instead, she headed towards the library where she saw the wizard sitting in a large chair looking at the fire. Hermione breathed out slowly and then climbed up onto his lap. He started at her sudden presence.

Recovering himself quickly he wrapped an arm around his witch and kissed the top of her head. "Hi." He said.

"Hi." She returned.

"How was tea?" He asked eventually. Hermione knew that the question, while politely asked was more his desperate way of asking her to explain what had occurred.

"Tea was stressful. He was testing me. I don't know if he himself was suspicious, or if it is the influence of one of your other… _friends_ , but he was most certainly intentionally throwing out terms and behaving in ways that he knew would infuriate me. I didn't react, though it took all of my will not to, and I maintained my cover but the entire afternoon was draining. I just want to cuddle. Can we just cuddle?"

"Yeah Princess. We can cuddle." Her wizard replied and tightened his hold on her as she burrowed her face into his neck.

"You smell nice. Did you shower?" The witch asked as she nuzzled him. She loved his scent it was a woodsy sort of smell, sandalwood with just a hint of spice like maybe cinnamon, it was incredibly intoxicating. Thorfinn simply chuckled at her remark, and pulled her closer.

Sometime later, Hermione began to get a little fidgety on his lap.

"What are you doing?" the blonde wizard grumbled, he was curious if his witch knew what she was doing to him by wiggling like that or if she was just squirming for no reason.

His question however earned him no response from the witch except for a small nip to his neck. Oh yeah, he thought, little minx knew exactly what she was doing. Thorfinn didn't hesitate another moment before he crashed his lips onto hers.

The kiss was anything but slow. It was bordering violent in the force and insistency, he nipped at her lips until she opened her mouth and allowed his tongue access to hers. It wasn't a soft, sweet and gentle kiss, it construed his absolute need for her and had Hermione moaning into his mouth and grinding her hips even closer to him as she straddled him.

Thorfinn's hand trailed down the length of her cashmere dress and found the hemline and slowly snuck his hands underneath to cup her pale soft cheek and squeeze them gently. He was rewarded with a breathy sigh from Hermione.

Breaking the kiss he looked at her, reigning in his self control. "You are a minx." He accused, but there was no trace of annoyance there.

"I am not." She replied, affronted. "I did in fact tell you that I had plans for you tonight, did I not?" Hermione replied slyly with a little smirk that he knew he had taught her.

"Hermione we've discussed this." He sighed.

"I know." She simpered and pouted. "But is it wrong that I'd like to snog the daylights out of you?"

"No of course not princess. It's not wrong to want me. But I do not want to rush this. Merlin knows I want to lock you in my bedroom and pound you in to mattress on a near consistent basis, and your little outfits do nothing to help me with that. I can't have you regret this, and you know my feelings about going further than kissing you with the glamour." Thorfinn explained quietly, sexually frustrated and wanting more, but knowing that his witch was already upset and needed him to be more nurturing towards her.

She was strong and fierce for sure, but she could only be that for so long. The stress of dealing with her situation, living with him (even if they were no longer enemies) was still tough, the threat of what awaited her if they were found out, and of course the constant worry over her loved ones was a lot for anyone to bear. Thorfinn knew that even though Hermione tried to hide it that she was breaking under the pressure and the last thing she needed was for him to vent his own pent up frustrations on her. Hermione was quiet for several minutes.

"Finn," she began. "I don't have any regrets and I don't think I ever will when it comes to you and our relationship. However, I can respect your sensitivity to our predicament and I actually appreciate your regards to my appearance. I'm sorry." She apologized.

"Nothing to be sorry for Princess. I'm not mad, I understand your desire for me, it's more than mutual, I still think it is too soon for more even if you wouldn't regret it."

"You want our first time to be special Finn?" she asked with amusement. He rolled his eyes and grinned.

"I only want what you do." He remarked, and she took that as a yes. "Don't you?" he countered and used reverse psychology.

"Yes, I suppose you are right. I do want my first time to be special." She stated as she once again cuddled into him. Thorfinn blanched at that. He knew his witch would be inexperienced, but had she just admitted what he thought she had?

"Hermione," he started slowly and cautiously, "are you a virgin?"

"Yes, Finn," she replied seriously, worried by his tone. "Is that a problem?"

"No, I just…" Thorfinn cut himself off. It wasn't a problem but he wondered how this witch was a virgin. She had caught him in first year in a sexual situation, (which while didn't involve her directly would have at least peaked her curiosity he imagined,) and was best friends with two blokes, whom she had been on the run and bunked with said wizards for a year all alone and she was so beautiful, that he was just surprised that nobody had been there before. "I wasn't aware, I guess I assumed that you were previously involved."

"Well you know what they say about assuming…" She teased.

"No, what do they say about it?" He asked back.

"That it makes an ass out of you and me." Thorfinn looked at her with a blank expression so she felt compelled to add "It's a silly muggle saying."

"Ah." He muttered. "Well I'm sorry to have assumed."

"I don't blame you. I mean I am almost twenty years old and mostly hung out with guys. I mean I suppose from where you stand that it would seem fairly likely. But boys didn't like me." She explained.

"I can't imagine that boys didn't like you." Thorfinn being dumbfounded, expressed to his witch.

"Well I mean there was Viktor in my fourth year, I went to the Yule Ball with him but he was older and I was bit young and then there was the awful Mclaggen in my sixth year who escorted me to the slug club party and well he was just repulsive…" Hermione offered and shuddered at the memory of Cormac shoving his tongue towards her tonsils.

Thorfinn growled softly and pulled his witch tighter, not wanting to really hear about her past boyfriends. She was his witch, _his_ , and while he surprised and slightly afraid of being her first a larger part of him was immensely glad because then she really would be all his.

"Jealous are you?" she asked upon hearing his grumble.

"No." he huffed.

"Yes you are. And I like it." She sighed contentedly and snuggled closer.

"Are you hungry little witch?" he asked a little while later.

"A little bit." She mumbled. "Let's sneak down to the kitchens and get something to eat?"

"Why?" Thorfinn protested, "we can just have Moppy bring us up something."

"Thorfinn Rowle!" His witch exclaimed and glared at him.

"Fine, fine. Let's go. But I'm not cooking."

"Nobody asked you to." Hermione huffed as she extracted herself from Finn's embrace and stood from the chair.

* * *

Walden Macnair growled as he crumpled the younger Malfoy's letter into a ball in his massive hand. He barley registered the crunching sound the parchment made as he did so, before he threw it into the fireplace and watched it burn.

Walden was almost positive that Rowle's little witch was his bird, and he had thought that using Draco would be a sure proof way to prove it. He had known that the mudblood was clever and smart, but he had also heard of her softness for magical creatures and her temper when she felt others were being mistreated, and who better than to get her riled than her old school rival. But the bitch must have seen through his antics because she had managed to fool the boy.

This frustrated the large wizard to no end. Must he do everything himself? He would catch her in this act, and then he would get his prize and he would be sure that Rowle suffered for his betrayal and deception. He figured it was high time that he call a meeting with the other, older comrades that were at Rowle's little dinner party the week prior and gather there thoughts on the subject. Draco had been fooled by the witch's good acting skills and had warned off Macnair so he wouldn't be a viable candidate any longer.

The younger Malfoy did have a point of course, on the off chance that the bird wasn't who he thought she was and Rowle discovered that he had been asking questions and making accusations the large blonde wizard would be furious with him and he would retaliate in kind.

But Walden knew there was only a slim chance that he was wrong, and he wasn't going to let the fear of Rowle's rage or his fiendfyre scare him off the trail.

He quickly penned an owl to Dolohov, Lestrange and Nott and invited them over for dinner the following night. The only foreseeable problem was Draco's tendency to talk to his father. Macnair didn't want to involve Lucius Malfoy in this scheming, firstly the minster would be right pissed with him for toying with the bird instead of reporting her whereabouts for capture, and he may very well overtake the whole recovery and appoint his prize to another Wizard. He couldn't have that, the girl was going to be his and now he had to find a way to ensure that young Draco would keep quiet about the issue.

* * *

"Moppy," Hermione called as she flounced into the kitchen her hand entwined with Thorfinn's, "I am giving the elves the evening off tonight. I would like to cook."

"But Young Miss," the elf protested strongly, "The elves have already begun preparations for your dinner and it is unseemly for you to have to cook when we are here to do it."

"No Moppy, I would really like to cook. If you feel uncomfortable taking the evening off, I am sure that there are other areas of Rowle mansion that you could attended to if you wish, however any elf that would like to rest tonight is welcome to do so." Hermione insisted. Thorfinn chuckled, he found it so amusing that Hermione felt so passionate about elf rights, when having grown up with house elves he knew the last thing they wanted was to take time off, get paid or, Merlin forbid it, be freed. Moppy directed a dark glare at his witch which made her displeasure known, but argued no further.

"Yes Miss, if you will it." Moppy squeaked and soon all the elves had dissaparated from the kitchen.

"So now what?" Thorfinn asked her.

"Now I cook." She said.

"What are you cooking?" He asked with and exasperated groan at her coyness.

"You will just have to wait and see." She replied as she set to work.

Thorfinn leaned against one of the island counters and watched as his witch bounced around in the kitchen, there really was no other way to describe it. She hopped from the fridge to the cupboards, to the stove and back with a spring in her step, seemingly very pleased. Thorfinn didn't know the first thing about preparing a meal.

"I'm surprised that you even know how to cook." He mentioned.

"Why is that?"

"Princess, you spent most of your life at Hogwarts, where elves prepared your food for you, before Hogwarts you were just a kid and too young to cook." He reasoned.

"Ah, But your forget, In those years at Hogwarts I spent the breaks at home helping my mom cook, I was on the run for a year and had to survive somehow so gathered and prepared meals for Ron and Harry and I with the limited resources available and spent the last year living on my own. A witch has to eat you know." She played devil's advocate.

"I suppose I didn't consider that." He remarked.

"It's really not that different from potions." She said. "It's about making something out of the ingredients available. I wouldn't say I'm a great cook by any means but I can make an edible meal."

Hermione had decided to prepare a chicken pasta and small salad for them that night. She was boiling water to cook the linguini and currently pan searing the chicken breast with sliced onion, peppers and mushrooms in olive oil. As the chicken was browning she added the pasta to the water and began to slice romaine and arugula lettuce and other vegetables and mix them into a bowl. She prepared her own dressing out of lemon juice and some sugar and mixed that in with the greens.

It was a relatively easy meal to prepare and within half an hour Thorfinn was surprised to be shooed from the kitchen to the dining room.

"I'll be there momentarily with dinner Finn, make yourself useful and go get a bottle of white from your cellar. And don't ask an elf, I will know if you do." She stated firmly and Thorfinn sighed audibly but left to do her bidding.

He had just seated himself at his normal spot in the dining room when Hermione entered with two plates floating behind her. Thorfinn smirked and poured his witch a glass of the chardonnay he had selected for the meal.

"Thank you." She said as he handed her the glass and she lifted the levitation charm to gently set a plate of salad and a plate of pasta and chicken in front of them.

"This looks really good," he complimented.

"Thank you. It is one of my favorites. It's just a pan fried chicken sliced up with a pasta in an olive oil and garlic sauce and with some vegetables. I've created the recipe when I was twelve. It's also really great with grilled chicken." She sipped her wine.

Thorfinn took a first bite of his pasta and was amazed by the flavor. From what he had seen of her cooking the chicken he expected it to be more dry but it was perfectly moist with the charred flavor of having been fried. The spices she used paired exceptionally well with it.

"Well?" She inquired watching him eat.

"I would give this an O for outstanding." He teased assigning her a grade. His witch beamed.

"I'm glad that you like it Finn." She replied as she ate her own meal.

They had just finished eating and Hermione was preparing to clear the table when the wards on the house chimed that somebody was visiting. She looked at Finn.

"Are we expecting company?" she asked, but took note of his confused expression.

"Not that I was aware of. I'll go see who it is, but I would prepare yourself if I were you." He warned as he rose from his chair. The wizard stalked off and Hermione sighed and set about cleaning off the table as she mentally willed her inner Blair forward. She wondered who would be at the door and why they would arrive unexpectedly, but she had a feeling it wasn't for something good.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Thank you to everybody who reviewed the last chapter and for all of my new followers and reader's who have added this to their favorite's list. the love is appreciated. I also want to say thanks to those of you who have bared with me while I recovered from my cold and shorter chapters, I hope to get back into my normal routine. Not Romeo's Juliette is my appreciated beta.**

Thorfinn wretched the massive, polished oak, French doors open in the front foyer of his family's ancestral mansion to discover who was on the other side of the door. He had thought it would be one of his comrades standing there, and while he was not wrong, the sight he found was not what he had expected.

On the front stoop, hunched over stood Draco Malfoy, bleeding profusely from the mouth, nose and sporting two black eyes.

"Malfoy? What in the fuck?" Thorfinn half shouted as he grabbed the younger wizards coat and dragged him inside. He noticed the shadow standing behind the boy as he did, and greeted the second presence. "Longbottom, get in here." He gruffed out and the broken boy didn't wait to be asked twice.

"Oh Merlin!" Hermione's voice exclaimed from the doorway to the dining room. She was of course appalled by the condition in which she found her schoolmate and friend Neville in, more than she was phased by Draco, but putting her best act forward, did what she had to. "Draco, what happened?" She asked as she ran up to him and helped him into a chair and began wiping blood off of him.

"Rowle," the platinum blonde croaked, his voice hoarse. "Macnair…" the wizard voice gave out before he could finish the warning. Rowle assumed it was from being in pain but Hermione recognized the sign of a tongue-locking curse. Draco Malfoy had been forbidden to speak of something, and the counter curse was not well-known. Hermione had a dilemma because she knew Draco was in a world of pain just for uttering the name and first word of his warning, he wasn't just silenced because of the curse, the curse caused severe burning if the inflicted attempted to speak of the subject forbidden to them, which her old school rival just had done.

The choice Hermione had to make was to break the curse, she was well-read and knew of this curse and how to break it, one of the every few who did, and if she did break the curse she was all but revealing her identity to all present. But if she didn't break the curse, and maintained her persona of being Blair, Draco could die. She may be his rival, she may strongly dislike the prat, but she didn't wish death upon him.

"Moppy!" She exclaimed suddenly and didn't glance away from Draco when she heard the pop of the head elf's arrival. "I need pain potion, anti-bruising salve, pepper-up potion and essence of dittany, now." She commanded and knew the elf had already left to do her bidding. Then she pulled out her wand and pointed it at the blonde. "finitum est maledictum lingua" the witch whispered the hidden counter which translated to finish the curse of the tongue, and the boy slumped into the chair panting heavily.

He raised his icy grey eyes to meet hers. The unspoken question was heavy in his expression, but thank merlin at that exact moment, Moppy reappeared with her supplies. Hermione set to work, administering the pain potion and pepper-up potion to the wizard to drink. She applied the white salve to his eyes and cheeks where she could see bruising, and used the dittany to repair his split lip and other scratches. When she was done she looked at Finn, who was watching her with a mix of pride and concern in his eyes.

"Finn, I think we could all use a glass of your new firewhiskey if you would be a dear and retrieve it." She said and he nodded, and went to get the bottle of Ogden's that had been gifted to him earlier that day.

The witch appraised Draco a moment longer, knowing he wanted answers and that she would have to give them, but seized the opportunity to attend to Neville who was still standing in the foyer.

"Oh Nev," She whispered as she got close to him. The boy had been looking down at the tiled floor but his gaze shot up at the nickname very few ever called him. She smiled at him softly, and patted his arm in the tender way she had always done, and she knew that he realized exactly who she was in that instant. She didn't give him a chance to speak however. "Let's get you cleaned up shall we?" she said and had Bop lead him upstairs to have a bath and take care of his more noticeable wounds.

"Granger." Draco said. There was no trace of his usual sneers or malice when he spoke the name, just a simple statement. Hermione knew it was futile to deny it at that point, she had already blown her cover. She swallowed and just nodded her accent. He remained quiet after that and a moment later Finn returned.

"Where is Longbottom?" he asked because he also realized that the moment Hermione had given herself away and there was no point in trying to save face, the cards would just have to fall where they would. Either Draco would turn them in or he wouldn't, and while Finn hoped fervently for the latter he wasn't convinced. He would have to wait to see.

"I sent Neville to get cleaned up." She said.

"It would seem, Granger, that I owe you not only one life debt, but two." Malfoy drawled from where he sat. "Rowle, some whiskey if you please?"

Thorfinn poured three glasses of the amber whiskey and distributed the glasses to them. "Two?" he inquired.

"Why don't we all move into the parlor where it's warmer and more comfortable and we can all talk?" His witch suggested. Thorfinn nodded, thinking it was a good idea and was surprised when she reached out to help Draco rise from his chair. As they walked further down the hall to the drawing room Hermione explained.

"Two life debts because I saved his life in the final battle. Vincent Crabbe had set fiendfyre loose in the room of hidden things, aka the Room of Requirement and was unable to control it. The fire consumed the wizard who cast it and Malfoy and Zabbini were sitting ducks. Harry, Ron and I had found brooms and when we were on our way out, I told them that we couldn't leave them to die. They may have been on the opposing side, and they may have been my tormentors in school, but I wasn't about to let them die." She said. The trio had reached the warm little room and she eased Draco onto a sofa before settling herself into a leather chair.

"I didn't tell her then, but naturally I owe her a life debt for not leaving me. And I owe her one now because she countered the curse that was killing me."

"Yeah, about that. Would either one of you care to explain to me what the bloody fuck just happened?" Thorfinn yelled in frustration.

"Draco had been cursed with the tongue locking curse. As well as what appeared to be having been beaten severely. The tongue locking curse forbids the person inflicted with being forbidden from speaking about a certain subject. Historically the curse was often used to prevent spies or wizards who otherwise witnessed something they should not have from talking about it, if said wizard was too influential or useful to just be killed outright. It's not a commonly used curse anymore and the counter curse is even less well known."

"But you knew it." Thorfinn growled.

"Yes, because this is me, the bookworm who was determined to know everything I possibly could, I researched more about the curse for an essay in History of Magic. That is how I learned the counter curse. The curse inflicts severe pain on the person under its influence if they attempt to talk about the subject. I think Malfoy attempted to tell us something that related to the subject and if I had not known the counter it likely would have killed him." Hermione finished.

"So you just had to go and fix it despite knowing that in so doing you were fucking our whole cover over?" The tall muscular blonde yelled at her, furious that his witch had been so reckless.

"Yes. Finn, I couldn't let him die." She simply said.

"Thanks Granger." Malfoy said with genuine gratitude. "And I swear to you a wizard's oath that I will not reveal your true person to anyone outside this room." Hermione looked up shocked, she would admit that she had wished he would make such an oath, but she had never expected him to initiate it.

"Thanks Malfoy." She returned.

Thorfinn just sat glaring at them both his arms crossed against his chest.

"I came here to warn you both. When I arrived I hadn't known the truth about you of course," Malfoy said looking at Hermione, "But Macnair has been digging. I confess that he had sent me to tea on a mission to expose you, and frankly you fooled me. Not many people have ever done that Granger. I told him that he was crazy for making accusations and tried to warn him off of you."

"I knew you were testing me!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Yes, well anyways, Macnair showed up at my house after I warned him that he was better off not digging, and he started using me as a punching bag, insisting that he knew you were his prized bird or some shit, and ranting that you had fooled me and that I was useless to him and that I had better keep my mouth shut, because he was going to get you, prove that you were, well you, and make sure Rowle here was tortured and killed for betraying him. He's calling a meeting with the other Lord's from your dinner party last week and he plans on roping them into helping him. Then he cursed me into silence because he didn't want me to tell my father anything. I came here immediately to try and warn you. I brought Longbottom because I needed his help to keep me upright." Draco explained.

"Fuck." Thorfinn roared. He had known that at some point the shit was going to hit the ceiling fan but he hadn't anticipated it being this soon.

"I can't say I'm overly pleased with the condition I found Neville in, Malfoy." Hermione seethed with a glare.

"I know. And I know you won't believe me, but I didn't want to treat him the way I have, I wanted to let him go the minute my father placed him in my custody. This stupid program is fucked up and I wanted no part in it, but my father insisted that I show the world just how powerful the Malfoy's are. It would be a very scary world to be alone and powerless in if I was disowned, so I did what I had to Granger."

"Fine. But do me a favor and try to treat him a bit better." She said finally.

"I'll try." He agreed.

"The question is what in the bloody hell do we do now?" Thorfinn groaned.

"I take it that, now I know that you are really Granger, you two are plotting to overthrow the regime?" Draco asked. Hermione nodded as Thorfinn gave him a no shit Sherlock stare. "Good. I want in." He said.

"You want in?" Thorfinn asked, flabbergasted at the boy. This was the son of the minister, the son of the arse who controlled the government, the son of the deatheater who had been the former dark lord's right had man. The seemingly loyal son… why would he want in on their little rebellion?

"I want in." the pale blonde wizard replied firmly. "I hate my father. You don't know the half of it Rowle, you have no clue what he is like behind the closed doors of the manor, what it was like to be his son. You know more than Granger here does, but you still don't know the half of it."

"He abused you." Hermione assumed based on the implications Draco was making and the tone he was using when discussing his father. She had thought there had always been evidence of abuse even when they were in school, and now that she thought about it seemed more likely than not.

"I see nothing gets past you." He intoned.

"I'm sorry." She expresses sincerely.

"I don't want your pity. I want to join in whatever resistance you have starting here and I want to end my father's regime." He clipped.

Hermione looked at Thorfinn and shrugged slightly. She was leaving it up to him, Draco had sworn an oath to not reveal her identity, so either way she didn't care.

"Fine. You can join." Thorfinn sighed. "The important thing is, as we had originally planned," Thorfinn cut off to give a pointed glare at his witch, "that we keep up appearances for now. Draco that means you play the loyal son and keep up the pretense of having been cursed, Hermione that means you don't fucking tell anyone fucking else your real identity and keep on being my darling fiancé, and for me that means running the program and dealing as I normally would."

"Yes but what about Macnair?" Draco countered.

"Macnair is a problem for sure. Hermione and I knew he was suspicious but not this much. We figured that at some point it would have to come to a head, we just hadn't thought it would be so soon. Obviously something has to be done." Thorfinn agreed.

"Well, we could try and turn the other lords against him." Suggested the younger wizard.

"How do you suggest that?" Thorfinn asked.

"Lestrange has a thing for ladies. Honestly I don't think he really cares what happens to the regime as long as he gets what he wants, and what he wants is sex. He has his eyes set on you… Blair, but I think a little redirecting and a little bribing could sway him to our side. Dolohov, well he is just self-serving, he likes the advantages of being on the winning side and the perks that come with it, he will be harder to convert but with the right strategy and some evidence that we might actually pull this off he will flock to our side. Nott sr. I don't think will be so easy he was a loyal deatheater, extreme blood purist and quite the traditional sexist. He is a nasty fellow and he will never change his alliance, so I recommend keeping him in the dark. His son however… as well as some of the other kids of the lords are like me, tired of the abuse and bureaucracy of this regime, and they will fight. They just don't want to be seen joining the rebel's, but this little resistance here is different than the tactics of the rebel's. We are not an outside force like they are, we have the advantage of taking down the regime from the inside." Draco explained.

"Actually Malfoy's right," Hermione finally chimed in, "We do have the advantage. The rebel forces, the remains of the order and Dumbledore's Army, are on the outside being hunted down. Of course they are fighting, they never stopped, but the people on the inside, if they can be convinced to join, are able to uncover more details and plans than the rebels could ever dream of. This may just work Finn." The witch expressed.

Thorfinn nodded. "I think you right. How to you propose we get them on our side."

"Well, I know that some of my friends are eager to meet the charming Ms. Nightshade." Draco said. "Of course Granger, I agree with Rowle you need to keep up that pretense and it doesn't matter who I bring in you cannot reveal yourself to anybody else."

"I know. I'll play at being the perfect American heiress engaged to Finn. Perhaps we should even throe an engagement party, dear." She said with a smirk aimed at said Viking like wizard. He grinned.

"Right." Draco drawled. "So I don't think owling is very secure, so how do we contact each other."

"Either of you have two galleons on you right now?" Hermione asked

Thorfinn pulled out two silver coins. Hermione took them and mumbled a charm on them. "Okay so anytime one of us needs to contact the other's just hold this coin and whisper the message to it in your hand until you feel it burn your hand slightly. Then the message will spread to the other coin, and it will burn the wizard who holds it until the message is received." She explained, using the same secure code passing that she did when she helped Harry spearhead Dumbledore's Army.

"Good idea, princess." Said Thorfinn.

"Thanks. Anyway basic owls and stuff are still expected. Like invitations to tea and dinner parties and crap, so we need to be sure to hold those regularly." Hermione continued.

"Yes, I'll continue to meet you for tea under the guise of informing you on our politics here, and eventually as we recruit more people I think inviting more people to tea and hosting regular dinner parties would be wise. These could serve as both the pretense and secret meetings for the resistance at some point." Draco agreed.

"Good, well that's settled then." Thorfinn mentioned. "Draco, I suggest you collect Longbottom and get home before this whole scheme becomes nothing more than a memory."

"Yeah, you're right," Draco muttered. "Granger, Merlin it's going to be weird calling you Blair now… Thanks for saving my life, again."

"You're welcome Malfoy." Hermione replied.

Draco nodded and rose from his chair just as Bop returned a now very clean, and bruise free Neville to the cozy room.

"Come Longbottom." He said, "We had best be returning home."

"Thank you for your hospitality Mistress Blair, Lord Rowle," Neville whispered eyes downcast. Hermione frowned at her shell of a friend.

"Goodbye Neville. Malfoy, you heed my warning now." She said sharply.

"Of course." The blonde smirked before grabbing Neville's arm and exiting the manor to the nearest aparation point. Hermione sighed when they left.

The evening had certainly taken an unexpected turn, and if she had thought her afternoon tea with Malfoy had been tense, it increased tenfold after dinner. She had been enjoying the playfulness between her and Finn that evening, but the moment had died when Draco had arrived again with a warning.

Thorfinn crossed the room to her swiftly and scooped her into a tight hug, holding her close.

"Princess, please don't ever do something so reckless again." He murmured into her hair before he pressed his lips in an endearing kiss to her temple.

"I promise, Finn. I'm sorry." She expressed contritely, knowing she had scared him earlier.

"It's late. We should go to bed." He said a moment later.

"I don't want to sleep alone," Hermione confessed tightening her hold around his neck.

"I don't want to sleep alone either." He remarked and a moment later, Hermione found herself thrown over her wizard's shoulder as he took great strides upstairs and to his room where he deposited her on his overly large king-sized bed.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: This chapter does contain a bit of smut so consider yourself forewarned. I'd like to thank My beta Not Romeo's Juliette and all of my reviewers and readers for all the love they show. Without delay here is chapter 12.**

Hermione awoke gradually the next morning. She had been half asleep at one point earlier on, perhaps at sunrise, but was lulled back into sleep by Thorfinn's breathing beside her. She hadn't been awake enough for conscious thought at that point. But as the golden orb rose higher in the sky and light began to awash the room the witch was once again pulled from her slumber.

She became very aware of the fact that her back was flush against Finn's front. She could feel a certain part of his body pressing into her lower back, even as he still slept, and she felt something rush through her at the sensation. The wizard's arms were wrapped firmly around her, holding her close and one long, strong, lean leg was thrown across both of hers. She was quite literally cocooned in him. And it felt bloody well incredible.

The feel of his erection, even if it was just morning wood, poking her awoke a craving inside of her for him. She wanted nothing more than to slip her hand into his silk boxers and wrap her hand around his engorged member and pet him softly. But she reminded herself that he wouldn't appreciate it. Not because he didn't desire her, she figured that she had enough evidence that he did, but because he wanted it to mean something, and he didn't want it to be with Blair.

Hermione sighed softly. Partly in frustration, she was aroused and she wanted relief, but partly in appreciation. She wasn't sure if she knew any male, her best friends included, who would be patient and determined enough to wait until she was back in her own form.

If the opportunity presented itself... she was used to boys who wouldn't care about her new looks or her feelings about them, in fact they would even consider them an improvement.

That Finn didn't act on his obvious attraction to her and insisted that he liked her appearance in its natural, non-magically impaired state, meant the world to her. He wouldn't even lose his resolve if she tried to take advantage.

She was deeply honored. It showed her that he not only thought she was beautiful, but that he genuinely cared about her feelings, and took great measures to ensure that she would be happy. She wondered in passing at how difficult it must be. There was no denying that her wizard was a sexual being. Finding him in the library in her first year, doing what he had been doing (or having done if she was being particularly accurate), should have been enough to prove that, but as if proving the point repeatedly she discovered him all across the castle that year in various states of undress with a different witch each time.

She didn't know much about the years between his graduation and the war, but she was sure nothing had changed. And she of course, was not unaware of the shock their false sudden engagement had caused in the other death eaters from the dinner party. It seemed as if none of them expected him to ever settle down, and so her arrival drew their interest.

The witch was oblivious to the fact that her blonde, Viking like wizard had stopped breathing deeply. Lost in her thoughts she shifted and wriggled free of his hold to roll over and face him. As she snuggled closer into his warmth, she tugged his arms back around her having had to break loose of his secure hold to turn. When she was once again comfortable she moved her gaze upwards, reluctantly because his abs gave a spectacular view, to study his face. She flushed immediately when she met his piercing blue eyes and amused smirk.

"Good morning, Princess." He rasped, trying to hold in his chuckle. She blushed scarlet at having been caught staring at his chest and was exceedingly glad he wasn't in her mind.

"Good morning." She replied eventually.

"I must say, I don't think there is a better way to wake up then to have you in my arms." Her wizard expressed. This only caused to embarrass her further. He chuckled as her face turned an even deeper shade of red.

"Finn." She protested.

"What it's true, I especially like the part where you squirmed against me for a fair few minutes just in order to face me, and then sneakily placed my arms back around you as if you had been that way all along." He said.

"I wasn't doing that to make it appear as though I had been like that the entire time, I just liked how it feels when you hold me is all." Defended the witch.

"Okay." He said surrendering. He was going to need a very cold shower, he thought wryly, as he shook the last remnants of sleep away.

"What do you have to do today?" She asked.

"Nothing this morning. This afternoon, I have to run by the ministry, if that is what it can even be called, and assess some newly apprehended rebels for placement." He grumbled.

"Oh." She replied. She became concerned about who was captured, and felt sympathetic because she knew Thorfinn regretted his charge.

"Why?" He asked in attempt to change the subject, having sensed the increased tension.

"Well, it's just that, I'd been thinking that people may start to wonder as to why your new fiancé is just hiding away at home. I mean I know I'm supposed to be a foreigner, and it's just odd that I wouldn't have been out by now. That and the fact that normal couples do things outside of the house." She mentioned.

"That's true." The wizard replied seeing the accuracy in the statement but feeling uneasy at where the discussion was heading. It wasn't that he wanted to keep the witch locked inside his manor, just that it was so much easier to keep her safe that way. Out in the open Thorfinn was at a loss of control and he worried. But his witch was correct. The wizarding world would be intrigued by the idea of the eligible bachelor finding his match, and they would get restless if they didn't make an appearance. Certain parties would get suspicious if she didn't go out.

He needed to find her some female companions soon so that she would have more opportunities to "explore" the wizarding world of Britain. And he knew that he would have to take his fiancée on a date to maintain their cover.

"Perhaps we should go out to brunch then." He suggested. "Why don't you go and get ready and we can head to Diagon Alley and eat a late breakfast at the cafe there."

"Sounds wonderful." Hermione stated eagerly. She kissed him quickly before extracting herself from his embrace and leaping from the bed. She was eager to get out of Rowle Mansion for a bit. Despite the size it was beginning to feel stuffy not being able to leave at all.

He watched as his witch left his room, assumingly to freshen herself up for a morning out, and he smiled. Such a simple thing made her happy, and he wondered why he hadn't thought to take her out earlier. Sure he was afraid of not being able to protect her, but he cursed himself for not noticing how much being cooped up was affecting her.

Stretching his long limbs over his head and arching his back to loosen his still sleeping muscles, he slowly rose from the comfort of his bed. He was painfully hard from having had Hermione pressed up against him all night long, and the minx had wiggled in her sleep. He was almost regretting his decision to wait until the witch was relieved of the glamour before making love to her.

Thorfinn opted to skip the cold shower and instead he turned on the showerhead to a temperature that bordered scalding hot, and decided that he would take his time and enjoy the shower fantasizing about his witch.

He pulled his green silk boxers off his legs and stepped into the stream of water, and wasted not a moment before taking hold of his throbbing member, and stroking it. He gripped himself hard in his hand and imagined that it was her hand wrapped around his length, bringing him to the edge.

He saw her curly hair wild and crazy from just having woken up as she rubbed her thumb across his tip and moved her hands forwards and backwards gripping him firmly. It didn't take that long, the hot water and the pictures of his witch in his mind brought him to his peak and soon he was spilling himself into his hand and watching as the white fluid washed away in the water.

When he had finished the wizard quickly washed himself and stepped out of the shower to towel himself dry. He dressed himself in his more reserved wizard robes, still casual but instead of his usual black robes they were a dark blue, and he only wore them for special occasions.

As soon as he had pulled the material over his trousers and white button-down top he heard a knock on his door.

"Finn, are you decent?" Hermione called. It took exactly three and half seconds for Thorfinn to cross the room and pull open his door. Even the short time it took to shower for the morning was too much time away from her and he chided himself for having become so clingy.

Hermione stood there, or Blair he corrected himself knowing her appearance was lacking what he wanted to see, dressed in a pair of tight muggle black jeans and a gold ruffled tunic paired with a simple pair of black booties. The denim clung to her skin it left little to the imagination, and he couldn't wait see the witch when she turned around. The thought alone was enough to cause his groin to stir.

"You look nice, Princess." He complimented. She smiled at his praise.

"Thank you. You are not so bad yourself." She replied.

"Are you ready?" he asked and she nodded. He offered her his arm.

"Well aren't you just a proper gentleman." She teased even as she linked her own arm through his. He chuckled and began to lead her down the stairs and to an aparation point on the grounds. A short while later the couple arrived in Diagon Alley and casually walked through the cobblestoned streets. Hermione inwardly gasped at the sight the community made. It was no longer bright and welcoming, it seemed darkened by the influence of the new world order shadowing over the wizarding world. It reminded her far more of Knockturn Alley than the little town she was used to seeing. It made her to shudder what the neighboring alley appeared as if the new regime had caused the once vibrant and crowded streets to be ensnared by dreariness.

Thorfinn, despite Hermione's best efforts to hide her disgust and shock, sensed an increased amount of tension from his witch.

"I should have warned you." He mentioned. She shook her head.

"No, if you had I wouldn't have wanted to come." She retorted.

"And that is exactly why I didn't. Don't worry the café is just up ahead and once you are inside it will be quite a bit more accommodating then the streets."

"Okay." She said, and they quickened their pace marginally, enough for them to know that they would get inside quickly but not enough to cause onlookers to wonder why they were in such a hurry. A couple minutes later and they arrived at their destination.

It was a quaint little place, small quiet and very welcoming. The sign above the door read Just like Granny's and it made Hermione quirk a smile.

They entered and were immediately greeted by the hostess behind the counter.

"Welcome, you can take a seat anywhere and I'll bring you a menu shortly." The middle-aged blonde haired woman said and Thorfinn nodded at her, as Hermione smiled softly. Thorfinn led her to a little corner booth away from the window of the café and out of sight from most of the other tables. The hostess, true to her word placed a set of menus in front of them moments later.

"Thank you." Thorfinn said.

Hermione opened her menu and began to dissect the choices. She had just decided upon two eggs over easy with toast and a hefty order of hash browns and sausage links when the same hostess reappeared. She must also be the waitress.

"I'll be having the Wizard's Special, sunny side up, white toast, Bacon and fresh fruit." Thorfinn responded to the waitress's unspoken question and looked over at Hermione. She placed her own order.

"Very good. Can I get you folks anything to drink? Coffee, Tea?" The waitress dutifully questioned.

"I'd like some orange juice with breakfast but I would appreciate some English Breakfast Tea while we wait." Hermione replied. Thorfinn mentioned he would have likewise.

"Great. I'll be right back with that order." The woman said and departed.

"No Coffee?" Hermione asked Thorfinn.

"I'm taking a page from your book." He replied.

"I do agree that a cup of tea is good for the soul." She said.

The door to the little diner chimed as a new patron entered. Hermione couldn't see from where she sat who it was but she saw Thorfinn stiffen at the newcomer. She didn't have to even ask who it was, or wait for her wizard to tell her, because the hostess announced it in a slightly increased volume.

"Minister, welcome. And Mrs. Malfoy, I'm charmed." Hermione rose higher in her seat and held her head up high. She was naturally already performing her disguise because she was out in public but she had as yet to meet the minister and aside from Voldemort he was literally her least favorite person.

Even though there table was out of the way, Thorfinn's height and otherwise large stature made it impossible for him to be missed. So neither he nor Hermione were surprised when the long-haired blonde wizard strode over to their table.

"Thorfinn." The Minister expressed in a boisterous voice, and then stopped to leer openly at her. "And this must be the delightful Miss. Nightshade I've been hearing about." He drawled. Thorfinn's demeanor changed to be accommodating to their new guest.

"Minister," Her wizard nodded, "Please allow me to officially introduce you to my Fiancée Blair. Darling, this is Lucius Malfoy our Minister of Magic."

"Delightful to meet you." Hermione said and forced a smile to her face.

"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you." Lucius replied. "This is my wife Narcissa, and I'm told you have already met my son, Draco."

"Indeed, Good to see you Draco. And it is good to make your Acquaintance Mrs. Malfoy."

"Oh please dear Call me Narcissa, or better yet Cissa." The Blonde woman expressed as her stony expression changed to one of polite civility.

"Of course, Cissa." Hermione amended.

"Well, Thorfinn. It seems as though your meal is arriving, and we don't want to poach any more of your time, however we would like very much to get to know your bride-to-be better. Draco seems to be enamored by her and thinks her worthy of a Malfoy's friendship." Lucius spoke suddenly, just as two plates were levitated over to the table.

"Yes, you simply must come to dinner. Tonight perhaps." Added Narcissa.

"We'll see." Thorfinn huffed a begrudging maybe. "I'll owl you later on."

"Oh yes, of course, I shall send a formal invitation of course," chimed the stoic witch with a false smile. Thorfinn nodded his agreement and the family of three left to find their own booth, well enough away from the one Thorfinn and Hermione occupied.

The blonde wizard said nothing when the visitors departed, simply began to eat his own meal which consisted of eggs, toast, a healthy portion of breakfast, hash browns and fruit.

"It seems we will be attending a dinner party tonight." Hermione commented dryly. Thorfinn lifted his gaze to hers.

"So it would seem." He agreed.

Hermione began to eat her own meal in silence and Thorfinn didn't attempt to strike up a conversation. The encroachment of Lucius Malfoy and his family on their date had put a damper on their morning.

Hermione sighed, she had anticipated some activity when she left Rowle Mansion, but was disturbed by the way the "minister" has looked at her. She despised the man, and she could read through the sweetness Narcissa displayed. She had hoped that they could enjoy an outing, but it seemed that Thorfinn's mood had been irrevocably altered for the day.

Thorfinn himself, was feeling ill at ease. He had never much liked Lucius. The man was arrogant and self-serving and didn't think twice about seizing the opportunity to gain power for himself. Even when they were among the Dark Lord's ranks, the man was dislikable. But Thorfinn was even wearier of him based on the way he had looked at Hermione with a predatory gleam in his icy grey eyes. He doubted that any Invitation to Malfoy Manor was as simple as a dinner party. The man was plotting something, and Thorfinn did not like it.

He finished his meal quickly and Hermione having noticed the pace he was consuming his food did likewise. When both of their plates were cleared he rose quickly and took her arm, having placed the necessary galleons on the table to cover the cost and led her at just the right gait to avoid any interest being drawn their way. To the nearest aparation point.

Hermione felt the tug behind her navel that signaled they were side-along apparating and the next instant they were back on the grounds of his estate. Thorfinn briskly walked up the pathway to the manor and left Hermione standing behind. She smiled sadly and followed, but he didn't even glance back at her. She retreated to the Library and sought out a book to bide her time before she would have to ready herself for a dinner at the scene of a traumatic point in her young life.

Malfoy manor was the place where Hermione had been tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange and she still had the scars to prove it. She was not eager to return, but right now her cover and Finn's life depended on it. She settled into her favorite spot by the fireplace and opened the tome, beginning to read and attempted to push the fear and dark thoughts away.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Oh Boy what a week! I hope you all had a happy holiday. I want to thank all of you reading and reviewing, it means so much and to give a shout-out that I am currently in the process of looking for a new beta on this so hope you can all bear with me and enjoy despite any mistakes while I seek one, and here I give you Chapter 13.**

Getting ready for a formal dinner party one was not hosting was completely different than getting ready for one you were. Hermione hated the process to begin with, and then add to the fact that it was a dinner party hosted by the Malfoy's, probably her least favorite of all the deatheaters she fought against, in their home, the place where she had been subjected to excruciating torture after having been captured by snatchers.

To say the idea was less than appealing would be royally understated. But Hermione was smart enough to realize that while the invitation to dinner had been extended as such it was nothing short of an order. Thorfinn would bear the brunt of the consequences if they did not go, and to the other guests who would see this as a direct insult to Lucius and Narcissa.

It would raise more than one set of eyes in their direction and they would be scrutinized in the media and worse by the so called ministry. More than they already were and Hermione hated to think what would happen if they were found out.

So begrudgingly, the witch began to get ready, even though she knew Thorfinn to still be out about his business.

They hadn't talked since breakfast, he had holed himself up in his study until he left and hadn't even told her he was gone, she saw the Viking stalking towards the aparation point through a window overlooking the gardens in her bedroom.

She sighed deeply, hurt a little by his response, but knowing that it wasn't her he was angry with, it was the situation. She would have to let him come around in his own time, she couldn't push him.

The witch decided that as it was early enough, the dinner party not until eight o'clock that she would relax in a bath to mentally prepare herself for the dreaded evening ahead. She ran the tap and added lilac and sandalwood scented bubbles before she stepped into the soothingly warm water.

* * *

Thorfinn arrived at the ministry intending to finish his task as soon as possible. He hastily made his way through the building, though what was once a bustling place full of crowds of witches and wizards, civilians and officials alike was now much more deserted only occupied by the lords and other appointed officials who formally supported the dark or whom Lucius Malfoy's owed favors to. It made for moving at a faster pace than what used to be possible. He reached the holding cells beneath the courtroom to appraise the three newly captured rebel agents.

Putting on his outward mask of the cold, unfeeling brute, he began his job.

"What are your names?" He questioned in an authoritative tone.

"Like we'd tell you?" One boy, a ginger haired brat scoffed. A Weasley no doubt, Thorfinn thought even as he looked at his face to see if he would recognize him, he did. George Weasley.

"I won't say." The female who sat close to George spat at him. She was dark skinned with long black hair and Thorfinn recognized the witch as Angelina Johnson. There was another boy who simply remained silent. Thorfinn didn't know him by sight.

"George Weasley, Angelina Johnson and your name Boy?" Thorfinn bit out.

"Seamus Finnegan." The boy said in a hateful tone.

"Very well. Weasley, Johnson, Finnegan, you hereby stand accused of acting in the late war on the side of the light and since as rebels against the new regime. You are to each be placed into separate locations under the supervision of one of our lords to begin your re-education. You will be held here until such time as you are placed and collected." Thorfinn explained to the three before he turned on his heels and walked back up three floors to his office.

He knew he had to do something to protect the girl, hell he wanted to spare them all this but he had to maintain his cover, and he had to get Macnair off his tail. He did not want to do it, but he decided that his best option was to offer the older, crueler wizard a bribe. He walked into the Scottish wizard's office where he maintained his post as the regime's official executioner, which had been his post before the war and the fall of the really ministry.

"What do you want Rowle?" Macnair greeted nastily.

"I had some new rebels arrive and are in holding that I need to place. You want one?"

"You know I'm busy looking for that mudblood bitch." Macnair replied bitterly.

"Aye, I know, but until you find her you could amuse yourself with a different one."

"Fine, but no girls. The longer I have to wait for the mudblood the more disagreeable I'll be and I always did enjoy punishing the witches, so I don't need a distraction running around getting in the way of my plans for the bird."

"Fine. You get the Weasley. George Weasley, the surviving twin. Collect him when you want." Thorfinn said and left the office trying not to shudder and reigning in his boiling rage before he set the office on fire.

He then sent an owl to Draco Malfoy and two other younger lads that he had mentored in his seventh year. Draco seemed to be under the impression that these younger generations could be swayed to overthrow the regime and restore the ministry to power, he wasn't recruiting them quite yet, but he did think it would be wise to sweeten the package for them by showing them some favor.

Malfoy arrived first. Thorfinn didn't bother with a greeting.

"You really think that Zabbini and Nott are so fed up with their parents that they would join with us?" he asked.

"Yeah, I do." The younger blonde replied honestly.

"Good because I'm about to place two rebels with them in hopes that they will be treated as well as possible. I'm not revealing our resistance yet until I know they can be trusted, but I did want to assess them for myself."

"Seems fair." The two wizards in question knocked on the door announcing their arrival as Draco spoke and Thorfinn waved them inside.

"Thank you for the update on your ward Draco. I'm pleased to hear that Longbottom is making progress in his re-education. I'll see you at the dinner party tonight with Blair."

"See you Rowle." Malfoy nodded and left maintaining the guise of having been called in for a formal meeting. Blaise Zabbini and Theo Nott Jr. walked into the office clapping the blonde on his shoulder before nodding in Thorfinn's direction.

"Gentlemen." Thorfinn greeted the new arrivals. "I've just been informed of new rebels having been captured and brought into custody to be placed. Most of the lords already have wards at this point and while they would be agreeable to more, I haven't been seeing results like I had hoped. As I'm sure you are aware the whole re-education program is designed to convert the rebels to our views and then replace them into society. I have called you here to discuss this a little with you both."

"Thor," Nott said using the nickname he had gone by in school and the name these wizards would truly know him as. "Are you placing rebels with us?" The lanky, long-haired brunette asked.

"I have a mind to." Thorfinn said. "As I was saying I'm not seeing much results with the lords converting the rebels and each assessment I make only proves that the placed rebels are being broken but still not giving up their beliefs and I strongly conclude that it is because their hosts are not giving enough incentives."

"So," Zabbini piped in, "what do you expect us to do about it?"

"I have been seeing progress from Draco's ward. It's true that Longbottom hasn't been treated particularly well but then he is a rebel and nobody said he had to be, the point is he is slowly coming out of his shell and more readily behaving as we hoped the re-educated candidates would. I'm hopeful that this is due to the age comparison between the host and the candidate, as well as the fresh influence youth brings. To test my theory I am placing a rebel with each of you."

"Okay." They both replied in unison.

"Nott. I'm giving you Finnegan, your intellect and cunning should pair well with his rumored brashness and disasters and Zabbini you are being charged with Angelina Johnson, another Gryffindor of course, but she is a little spitfire, so she would do well with your calm exterior but no-nonsense attitude. You can go and collect your new wards from the holding cells at any time." He said.

"Thanks Thor." Nott said.

"Yeah, thanks for your consideration." Zabbini added.

"Thank you gentlemen." Thorfinn said dismissively. Now he had these young wizards within his line of vision, as the overseer of the re-education program he naturally would be assessing them regularly and this would allow him to observe them and see if they really would be good and trustworthy potential recruits. The blonde wizard sighed deeply and finished up some paperwork before he headed back for his home.

He had been quite rude to Hermione, and he felt badly about it because she wasn't the root cause of his mood. No that pleasure all went to Lucius Malfoy, but he was never good at separating his anger. When he was upset it took all of his control to not have an outburst with fiendfyre if he were to lose his cool, and as a temperamental wizard he couldn't let himself be distracted. He was livid at Malfoy for interrupting his date, and because he wasn't liking the way the wizard had looked at Hermione, well Blair, but still his witch. He was dreading the fucking dinner party tonight, but without another option he was stuck. And that pissed him off, so because he was trying to hold himself back, he had avoided Hermione. He wanted to explain this all to her, but he didn't quite understand it all himself. He knew he had hurt her and he expected the witch to be angry with him because of it. It may be better if he just continued to avoid her.

He returned home and heard the water running as he walked past the open door to her room. He grunted and continued towards his own bedroom to get himself ready for dinner.

* * *

Macnair stomped down the three levels from his office to the holding cells in the ministry to claim his fucking charge that Merlin fucking knew he did not want. What he wanted was to recapture his bird. He would say that he wished to locate her, but he was ninety-nine percent certain that his bird was disguised as Rowle's own fiancé. The way that bitch had acted around him… she was outspoken and rude and seemingly especially ill-behaved towards him and Nott, and he found it odd that she would act the way upon just meeting people. Sure, the lass was an American heiress, and as an American very different in mannerisms than he was used to from British witches, there was the slim chance that the witch wasn't his bird and that she was just a little fucking swot. But he doubted that. Even if that that were the case, why would the little bitch act especially spiteful towards him, what had he ever done to her?

Walden's ire was growing with the mudblood. He was annoyed that she hadn't wanted to play his game in the first place, and then he was mad that she had run away to hide from him, and now, now he was enraged that she was not only hiding in plain sight but that she was openly taunting him with that fact.

He was going to enjoy having her beneath him. In fact, he began to think about just how much he would enjoy that, first he was going to bind her wrists in chains from the ceiling in his cellar in the dark, naked, so that she would freeze and he would leave her there for hours. Then he was going to grab the chit and tie her down on his bed before he crucioed the bint until she had no voice left. How he would enjoy the sweet sounds of her pleads. When he was through with the torture curse he was going to flip her over and flay her hide with his leather belt until he was pleased with how red and bruised it was, taking great joy in how she wouldn't even be even scream for him to stop. Then he would finally mount her and take his time reaching his pleasure from her. And that was only day one….

Of course he had to prove that it was indeed her before he could justifiably take her from Rowle, and while he was undoubtedly stuck on forming that plan, he was confident that he would eventually figure out a way to do so. And when he did, he would let her watch as Rowle was tortured and killed for his betrayal. Maybe that alone would break her.

Macnair reached the holding cells and claimed the Weasley brat from the guard there, handing him the parchment that Thorfinn inter-office owled over to him giving him rights to the prisoner. While he waited for his vengeance he would use the boy as his punching bag to vent his frustrations.

"Here is your ward now, Walden." Chimed the voice of the holding cells secretary, a lass he had gone to school with. He grunted at her and then slammed his hand around the upper arm of the boy. Weasley planted his feet firmly into the dirt ground that graced the holding cell lobby.

Macnair was in no mood for cheekiness. "Let's go." He clipped.

"I'm going nowhere with you Macnair" George insisted.

"You don't have a choice boy. You're in my keeping now." Macnair growled and tugged his arm hard. George having been weak from lack of food and low on energy still put up quite a fight, really digging his feet into the dirt and holding fast. That is until Walden slammed his heavy fist into the boy's left eye. The redheaded fell to the ground and Macnair grabbed hold of both arms and proceeded to drag him from the room. If he wouldn't walk willingly Walden did not care, he would take the brat by force, and then his punishment for the boy would be more severe later. Either way Walden got to get some enjoyment out of it. He did love seeing the prisoners humiliated.

* * *

Hermione bathed for about an hour, just letting the aroma sooth her as she laid her head against the marble rim of the tub, hair piled high to avoid getting wet. Eventually the water cooled and signified that it was about time the witch begin dressing for the unwelcome dinner party.

She began with her hair, which she twisted into a loose bun at the nape of her neck and left a few tendrils to outline her face. Then she decked her face in make-up. She had noticed that Narcissa had noticed her face absent of make-up earlier that day, and observed the witch's curiosity. So she decided that she would define Blair's features with a sassy accent in her make-up. She used black, white and gray eyeshadows to create a smoky look with dark eyeliner under her eyes and a generous amount of mascara. Then she accented her cheekbones with a light blush and bronzer. For her lips she choose a purple matte.

Hermione moved towards her closet and she selected an elegant evening gown, knowing that she wouldn't get away with being casual tonight. The gown was made of black lace that dipped low to expose cleavage and was backless, but had long sleeves. She matches the dress with silver stilettos and accented the attire with diamond earrings and teardrop pendant.

She turned and saw Thorfinn standing in the doorway posed to knock. She inclined her head towards him allowing him to enter.

"You're beautiful." He said.

"Thank you." Hermione replied, not unkindly but not with much emotion either.

"I owe you an apology. I didn't mean to ignore you this afternoon." He said.

"I know. I'm not mad, not really." She replied in the same tone.

"I didn't know what to say to you." He confessed. She finally looked him in the eye. She understood, how difficult this was for him, she had noticed that Finn didn't like to confront things unless he had been drinking, or there was intimacy involved. It was easier for him when he was comforted. So she crossed the room and enveloped what she could of his large frame in her arms.

"I know." She said again. "It is okay." She leaned her head against his chest letting him know she wasn't upset anymore, that they were okay. Because more than anything she wanted them to be.

"I am sorry Princess. I just don't do well with anything when I'm angry. It wasn't at you."

"I know." She replied. "Don't stress about it Finn." She said and to squash any further apologies from her wizard she pressed her lips to his.

The kissed for a few minutes. Then he stated. "We have to go."

"Well I can't say I'm looking forward to this."

"I'll be right here for you."

"You always are." She said, just to not to say that she knew yet again.

"I am." He replied and he took her hand in his. "And I'm not going anywhere." She smiled at him as she squeezed his hand and the couple lingered in the garden a few minutes before eventually apparating for Malfoy Manor.

They arrived at the gates which opened upon sensing wizarding guests to admit them to the Malfoy's Gardens. Hermione had never seen them before because the only other time she had been here it wasn't as a guest and they didn't come through the front gates.

They were breathtakingly beautiful. And as Thorfinn walked them towards the manor's front door, she enjoyed the view of the roses and other rare magical plants and pretended that she was anywhere else than where she found herself now.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Happy New Year everybody! Thank you so much for all of the love you guys give. I hope that 2017 is filled with good things for you guys and wanted to start the year off right with a new chapter for you all.**

* * *

The door to the large ostentatious manor opened to admit them before either had even had a chance to ring the bell. Thorfinn didn't seem bothered by this, so Hermione assumed that whenever the gates admitted guests that the master of the house was alerted. And they had been invited after all. She took a deep inward breath and held is several seconds before she exhaled. And by that point they had crossed the threshold into the marble hall to be received by the entire Malfoy family.

"Thorfinn," Lucius sprawled his greeting, "and the charming Ms. Nightshade. Welcome."

"Indeed, welcome to our home," echoed Narcissa in a sticky sweet, forced tone.

Hermione smiled, false as it may have been and pushed her inner Blair forward.

"Thank you for inviting us." She greeted.

"Oh but of course." Lucius mentioned, "I have been eager to get to know you better my dear." She tried not to shudder at the endearment.

"I can't possibly think as to why. You are the minister, a very important man and I merely a new citizen from a foreign place. I am not that interesting."

"Ah but you must realize that you are engaged to one of my lords, have befriended my heir and charmed several more of my lords, and here I know next to nothing about you."

"My fiancé is an enigma, Lucius." Thorfinn said.

"Indeed she is." Draco interceded in agreement. "The witch has many qualities."

"Well, that makes me all the more intrigued by her. I've heard of your upbringing of course Ms. Nightshade, and I find that what captives me the most is how you happened to settle on Thorfinn when you clearly despised him." Lucius continued in his same drawl.

"Lucius, it is quite rude to have these types of conversations in the hallway, perhaps we should offer our guests some wine?" Admonished Narcissa.

"Of course you are right my dear." He said, though perhaps you would be so inclined to entertain us as we drink with an answer Ms. Nightshade?"

"Well Minister, I feel the best way to summarize that answer is rather a cliché. Opposites attract." Hermione said with a little smirk. Finn chuckled as he took a seat next to her on a sofa and pulled her close to his side.

"I'd rather say that is a good summation darling." He praised.

"Oh, but why in your instance did opposites attract?" Pressed the blonde wizard.

"Well, I don't know I could say. In all honesty we just grew close after our mutual loss. But it was such fun getting under his skin." She teased.

"I think that despite the fact that she was a swotty, troublesome, little minx, that I always noticed she was beautiful. Of course she never hesitated to tell me that it was fortunate for me that my face was pretty because then nobody would see beyond my statue and my looks to realize that I was nothing more than a brutish Viking. I think her spitfire attitude was what was attractive. I'm immensely glad that she hasn't lost that, though I am proud that it's normally not directed at me any longer."

"My lords are under the impression that you are toying with them." Lucius turned the statement to Hermione.

"I must confess, I am. I like to make wizard's squirm just a little, and your lords did not disappoint." Hermione said with a wink. This caused everybody in the room to burst into boisterous laughter.

"No I'm sure they did not." The minister commented as he poured her a glass of a vintage red. Hermione never had much cared for red, this particular blend was fruity and slightly sweet, which while not unpleasant was still not quite enjoyable either. She liked her wine cold, she also liked it sometimes sparking. She liked wine sweet but crisp, and this was a warm, sweet but bitter red. Of course the witch drank the offered alcohol as it was still better than facing this place and these people without the liquid courage.

"So how exactly are you making my fellow lords squirm Ms. Nightshade?" Lucius asked her as he sipped his own glass.

"Oh please call me Blair, Minister. Ms. Nightshade sounds so formal. In answer to your question, well, I am playing my hand of cards of being an American. While allies our communities may be, they are vastly different societies and I'm very good at spotting when people are set in there ways. I don't know about you Minister, but you Brits tend to be more inclined to your traditions and in America we find it rather amusing, because we like to live a little more risqué. In any case, I could clearly see that my American mannerisms were grinding on the nerves of some lords but entertaining to others, so I overplayed the, shall we say, volume of how American I can be. Typically I wouldn't be so obnoxious about it... but it was all in good fun." She explained in a teasing nature and set the room to laughing again.

"Well, I must say, Blair, that you are lively. You are just the fresh type of mind that could brighten our society." Lucius complimented with a searing leer. Hermione felt rather than saw Finn tense beside her.

"I thank you. That is very generous of you to say."

The conversation continued similarly for a while as they sipped on the wine. Eventually Narcissa informed them that dinner would be ready shortly and that they should begin the trek towards the dining room.

Thorfinn held Hermione's arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze as they began walking. Hermione tensed and held in a panicked gasp when they reached the drawing room, the room, the one where she had spent hours under a deranged woman's cruciatus curse, and the room where same woman cut into her forearm with a cursed blade the word mudblood. Of course she had stopped walking.

"Oh I do apologize, the room is undergoing some remodeling." Narcissa spoke up, "Please be careful."

Hermione glanced about, for the first time really seeing that yes the room was a catastrophe of construction materials. Hermione knowing that she needed to play it cool, made a comment regarding the scene.

"If you don't mind my asking Cissa, why ever are you redecorating? The room looks as though it were quite beautiful as it was."

"Alas, we had an incident with the chandelier falling and it cracked the marble in the floor so naturally instead of just repairing those, I decided it would be best to completely redesign the room."

"Of course, perfectly understandable."

"Mother," Draco spoke up, sensing Hermione's discomfort, "this is a disaster zone in here, and we really shouldn't have our guests standing around."

"You are quite right dear." The Malfoy Matriarch responded and then her heels clicked along the hard floor as she began leading them out of the room.

Lucius Malfoy took the opportunity to ask her how she liked his wine selection, of course bragging as he did.

"The Malfoy's have an overly large, fine selection of wine dating back centuries, if you care to know Blair, I find myself curious as to what your opinion was of the bottle we shared in the cocktail lounge."

"In all honesty Mr. Malfoy, I am not much of a red wine drinker. The selection wasn't unpleasant by any means but it's hard to form an opinion when I know so little about reds and don't tend to partake in them often." Hermione replied.

"Oh what a shame. I will have to convince you to graduate to red at some point my dear. Perhaps I'll have a soiree for a wine tasting in the near future, and you must attend. Until then I wonder, do you drink white?"

"I do drink white wine on occasion." Hermione agreed flatly.

"Well, I suggest I give you a small tour of the wine cellar and allow you to pick a bottle to accompany dinner." He said with a smirk and Hermione felt ice race through her veins.

"Finn would you like to pick out a bottle, you know the kind I like, and it would allow you a moment to discuss any business with the minister." She directed the question to her boyfriend who knew enough to pick up on her cue of being afraid, and still be polite. However, before Thorfinn could even respond Lucius Malfoy had gripped her other arm.

"Oh come now, I insist. It isn't very often I allow a guest the opportunity, you simply cannot squander it." The platinum blonde was saying even as he began pulling her away from Thorfinn. "Thorfinn, will be fine for a few moments while I escort you."

Hermione looked at her wizard with a second of sheer, unmasked fear in her gaze before she schooled her features and channeled her inner Blair. Thorfinn, despite being uneasy himself, recognized that there wasn't anything they could do to avoid the situation without at best seeming impolite and at worst blowing their whole operation. They were going to have to be separated and he was worried and pissed in equal measure. What was Malfoy's plan here?

"Yes, Blair, really it isn't a chance to be taken lightly my dear. Go enjoy and pick out a nice bottle, you are in fine hands with the minister, I assure you." He said masking his expression.

"Very well." Hermione said cautiously, having picked up on Thorfinn's unspoken message and still not being thrilled by the idea of being alone with the older, crueler wizard. But knowing she had to. "I'd be delighted minister."

"That's a good girl." He whispered in her ear, as he led her from the drawing room.

* * *

Narcissa was incensed at what had just transpired. She was used to Lucius wayward eyes and torrid affairs. They didn't have a marriage of love in the first place, an arranged union from their father's forced them together. And they had made it work for a while there had been some tenderness, and Draco had been born. But years of his service to the dark lord and the months of hosting the horrible man in their home had taken their toll on their marriage and Narcissa had found her husband unbearable.

So she had refused him, and he had gone elsewhere to take his pleasures and desires. She accepted the fact that he would, it was to be expected, he had never been faithful to her even when they did get along, and of course when she refused his sexual advances and had moved out of his bedchamber into her own suite, he would continue on with his indiscreet activities.

However, until that point, he had never openly flaunted his targeted prey under her nose, in her own home. What kind of a bastard would be so shameless as to all but visibly undress another woman in the presence of his wife, and son? And worse yet, this wasn't some single slag trying to bed her way to the top, to gain some favor from her husband. She was an engaged woman, who she honestly believed had no interest in her husband what so ever.

At every turn the young witch had attempted to make light of Lucius's advances and was seemingly very affectionate towards her own fiancée. And Lucius hadn't picked up on the signs, and if he had, didn't care. He certainly didn't think twice about the fact that Thorfinn Rowle was standing right there as he tried to sway his witch away from him…

She was so mad she was seeing red. She addressed the other occupants in the hall that her husband had just escorted the young witch out of.

"Draco, please be a dear and entertain our guest until your father arrives, I seemed to have chipped a nail and must attended to it straightaway." She lied and made an excuse to leave the room.

"Of course, Mother," her son dutifully accepted his charge and without another minute's hesitation the witch retreated from the hall herself.

When she had gone, Thorfinn turned a hard glare on the younger wizard.

"What game is your father playing?" he asked through clenched teeth, his hand fisted at his sides.

"I swear I don't know, but whatever it is, it's not good." Draco said almost as upset as Finn. It was true that while they had been schoolmates Draco couldn't have cared less about Granger or what happened to her. It was true that he had listened to what his father had said, and laughed whenever his father or his cronies threw an insult her way.

But he had changed since then, and he had seen how his father treated woman, and even though his father was none the wiser as to who Blair really was… he still had that predatory gleam in his eye and Draco feared what that meant.

"Though father does like the young pretty and sassy ones, Thor. I'd keep an eye on her if I were you, because while he won't try anything to involved tonight if my father ever gets your witch alone when you aren't there waiting, I don't want to think about what will happen." Draco warned.

"If he tries anything with her…" Thorfinn cut off, knowing the foolishness of cursing a wizard in his own home, especially when said cure was also a coup.

"I know." Draco agreed not needing to hear the words to understand what the message was.

* * *

They had climbed down a steep staircase into a stone chamber that was massive in size and filled with rows and rows of wooden wine racks, all full. In her heels the witch had stumbled and this had caused Lucius to pull her closer to him to keep her steady.

Then he led her past no less than five of those tall stands and around the corner into the white wine cellar.

"There are several whites I have in storage here. What is your preferred label?"

"I usually drink chardonnay." Hermione explained.

"Excellent choice, dry but sweet."

"Yes. My favorite blend had peach undertones to it."

"Ah, I think I have one that you may enjoy." He explained and pointed to a bottle on the top shelf. But he did not reach for it. Instead the tall, slender wizard moved his body to stand directly in front of hers. Uneasy, Hermione took a step back and found her back pressed into the rack of wine. In the next moment Lucius had two arms on either side of her, trapping her between his body and the wine bottles at her back.

"Have I told you," He pressed his body against hers and murmured in her ear, "how absolutely delectable you are Ms. Nightshade?"

"No," Hermione took a shaky breath "You haven't, but Minister, it really is not necessary."

"Oh, but I think it is…" he replied and then his mouth was on hers and his hand was creeping to the hem of her dress.

"Sir!" Hermione protested turning her head to the side and trying to push him away.

"It's okay my dear, you don't have to pretend here, I can tell you desire me, and we are alone, you don't have to hide it when we are alone."

"Minister…" Hermione began but he interrupted.

"Lucius," he corrected. "You can address me with my name Blair."

"Lucius," she said instead, "Please, I think we will be missed if we are much longer."

"I suppose you are right my dear. Though I promise you that we will continue this tryst soon enough."

"Can't hardly wait." Hermione said trying not to choke on the words. Lucius pressed his lips to hers again once more, but much less passionate than his first assault had been. The he sighed deeply and stepped away, reaching above her to retrieve the bottle she had selected. He offered his arm to her and she took it begrudgingly allowing him to help her up the stairs and towards the dining room.

When they returned Hermione immediately sought out her wizard and sat next to him, seeking his hand to hold under the table. He looked as upset as she felt.

"Did you enjoy the tour darling?" He asked dutifully. Hermione could sense she was being watched, and so she smiled charmingly.

"I did. I had no idea it was so extensive, I most certainly hope that the minister would be so kind as to allow me back there to choose a bottle again in future."

She noticed the smug expression the long haired blonde seemed to adopt but could feel the way Finn stiffened in his seat. After all as she spoke her hand had begun to shake in his so he knew that something had happened.

"Of course Blair. You were a perfect guest, and I'm sure there will be a future occasion where you can select a bottle."

"Thank you Minister."

"Draco, where is your mother?" The wizard asked suddenly of his son completely changing the subject.

"I'm here Lucius, don't get yourself in a snit." Narcissa announced as she glided into the room with poised grace.

"Where were you?" He hissed icily at her.

"I simply broke a nail dear, you know how much I detest not being groomed to perfection."

"Fine." He acknowledged but still huffed in irritation with her.

"Shall we eat?" The elder witch asked undeterred by his husband's annoyance. As if on cue the table was set with a silver platter in front of each guest with a little popping noise that could only be elf magic.

Narcissa smirked in her direction when Hermione started at the sudden appearance of food.

"We believe in this household, that as much as possible, the house-elves should not be seen or heard, but that their evident existence should shine in the house. Therefore, especially when there are guests present they will not show themselves in the dining room."

"Oh, well that is a good practice I suppose." Hermione replied. After a brief toast that Lucius gave in her honor, they began to eat and Hermione picked at her plate longing for the night to be over. Wishing she could get out of there as soon as possible.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I can't believe that I'm already at chapter 15! Thanks so much for all the love and appreciation you guys have given this story.**

* * *

The dinner was, Hermione had to admit, delicious. The first course was a creamy asparagus soup, which while the young witch had never tried before, was delighted to find she enjoyed. The second course was a dinner salad, which was alright but nothing special, and the main entrée was roasted lamb which was mouthwatering.

Of course, Hermione was annoyed that dinner was being drawn out over several courses, it meant she had to sit there and endure the tedious company longer than she would have wished, but she was grateful that at very least the food was good, because at least she had that to distract her.

During the first courses there was idle chit chat going on around the table, Draco, Finn and Lucius were discussing business and Narcissa was talking at Hermione's about her fashion style and how it was decidedly too American, and how she would be more than delighted to take her shopping for some more traditionally styled witches robes.

"Of course Narcissa, that would be delightful. I must say that I do find my clothes hard to part with, but you are right, there are occasions now that I am living in England that would require me to wear some more traditional styles."

"I'm free most of this coming week dear, what day would be best for you?"

Hermione plastered a tight lipped smile on her face, inwardly screaming. Shopping with Narcissa Malfoy was the farthest thing in the world from what she would rather be doing, but now it seemed it was unavoidable. Damnation.

"I believe Thursday would be a good day for me, Cissa."

"That is settled than, you can just floo right over here in the morning and we shall go shopping in Diagon Alley."

"Delightful." Hermione responded as cordially as she could possible muster up.

However once the roasted lamb appeared before them on the shiningly polished silver trays, the conversation shifted to focus more on her, and Hermione continually wished that a giant hole in the floor would open up and swallow her.

"Blair, Draco has mentioned to me that you are from the West coast in America, and that you didn't attend the Salem Institute. I find I'm curious about your education." Lucius began as his eyes looked her up and down causing her body to shudder in anything other than the desirous look his eyes were assaulting with portrayed the platinum blonde monster felt for her.

"Indeed. You are half correct my lord. I was born in Boston and raised on the East coast. I'm sure that I would have been suck attending Salem Institute had my father's business not moved from Boston to New York. When the transition occurred, my father had been researching other wizarding schools, and well he discovered Strickland Academy. He had reservations on sending me across the country at first, but the standards of the academy ultimately spoke for themselves and were quite convincing?" Hermione explained nonchalantly. She had done real research on the Academy, so she knew about the education standards, the campus layout, curriculum, and all that stuff. She knew it was bound to come up at some point.

"Interesting and just what are those standards you speak of?" The minister continued to inquire.

"Well, I think first and foremost that it was an all witches academy was a deciding factor for my Father who at the time was over-protective of my virtue. But Strickland offered a wide curriculum which allowed us to have access to all sorts of information on magical theory, the dark arts, no-mage studies as well as standard education like charms and potions."

"No-mage studies," chimed Draco, "Is that like muggle studies?"

"I don't know about what the specifics are for your so called muggle studies, Draco, but no-mage studies for us was classes centered on no-mage academics like English Lit, and mathematics as well as foreign languages. Is that what muggle studies were like at Hogwarts?"

"No, I mean I never took it of course, but muggle studies was the study of muggles and there culture. Did they have anything like that at Strickland?"

"Well, no. Strickland was located in the heart of Seattle, so we were surrounded by no-mages on a consistent basis, so there really was no need for studying their culture because we were immersed in it already." Hermione stated.

"Fascinating." Narcissa said.

"How awful that you were so closely surrounded by muggles." Commented Lucius.

"I must object to that Minister," said Hermione abruptly, "In America we do not share the same qualms about no-mage's as you do here, certainly we uphold and protect our stature of secrecy, but we aside from hiding our true nature share the same culture as no-mages. We eat the same foods, often at the same restaurants together, we listen to the same music, shop at the same stores, and yes we do have our own wizarding districts but it is not nearly as segregated as it is here." The witch interjected hotly.

"Blair darling," Thorfinn said keeping up with his persona and warning her in a quiet even tone. "I'm sure the minister didn't mean offense."

"Finn," Blair whined.

"No. I will not have insulting our hosts in their own home. That is enough." Her wizard insisted. She sulked in her chair.

"Now, now Thorfinn, The witch is certainly entitled to her opinion. I quite like her outspoken spirit." Lucius said, "But your fiancée is right my dear, I didn't mean to offend you."

"Well you did, intended or not." She replied and after the low growl she received, even as he patted her on her knee reassuringly, from Thorfinn the Minister burst out into laughter.

"Good Merlin, I can see why she has charmed half my lords and put half the others off. She has some fire in her Thorfinn. What a treat."

"On that note, why don't we have dessert?" Narcissa said and shot a glare in Hermione's direction. Evidently the elder witch did not share her husband's sentiments and did not appreciate her attitude.

"Dessert would be lovely dear." The Malfoy Patriarch commented dryly.

Moments later a new set of silver platters appeared in front of each diner at the table and Narcissa introduced the newest dish in her coolly polite fashion.

"For dessert we have bread pudding. Bon appetite." The witch announced and Hermione was about to take a tentative bite of the custardy sweet substance, but the fork paused on the way to her mouth by a sudden choking sound coming from down the table. Hermione turned her head swiftly to see that the sound was coming from the Minister, whose face was turning red as he was asphyxiating after having a bite of the dish himself.

A glance around the table allowed her to observe that Draco was frozen in shock, Thorfinn was tense and becoming agitated beside her and that Narcissa was calm as day sitting, with an evil smirk on her face as she took her own forkful of the pudding.

As much as Hermione hated the man, and would love to see him suffer, she couldn't. Quickly she pulled out her wand and muttered a diagnostic charm, and realizing that Lucius was having an allergic reaction muttered the quick healing charm. The wizard immediately stopped choking and sent an icy look at his wife.

"You put almond sin the pudding didn't you Narcissa."

"Yes, darling." The other witch replied evenly.

"You know I'm allergic to almonds." The minister accused.

"That I do."

"You tried to kill me!" He roared at her.

"Oh please," spat the witch at her husband, "I wouldn't have let it go that far and in any case Ms. Nightshade came to your rescue."

"Yes, thank you for that Blair. How did you know what to do?"

"Oh I took a course once on general healing spells and potions. You never know when one might need to know one."

"Indeed. Well your fast acting just saved my life. No thanks to my wife."

"I think Minister that it may be best if we took our leave now." Thorfinn ventured.

"Yes, we should leave family matters between relatives." Finished Hermione smartly.

"Oh but you can't leave, you haven't finished the pudding dears." Pouted Narcissa.

"No Narcissa, I think they are right. I don't want any witnesses to my retaliation to your little attempt here." The blonde hissed at his wife. Thorfinn grabbed Hermione hand and made his polite farewell.

"Dinner was delicious. Thank you for the invitation." He said and then added. "We will just be going now." And without another word He was pulling her out of the dining room, through the drawing room and back out of the foyer into the gardens, down the gravel path towards the gates at a pace that was very difficult for Hermione to keep up with in her heels.

The gates opened to permit them to depart and as soon as they had cleared the grounds he was pulling her into side-aparation and then they were home.

And as soon as the familiar sight of roses in bloom greeted her from their own gardens, Hermione was hyperventilating in a panic attack, which when he couldn't calm her had her wizard scooping her up into his arms and striding for the front door hastily.

* * *

Thorfinn carried his princess up to the library, the room that she was most comfortable in. He recognized well the signs of a panic attack, having suffered a few of them himself under the reign of terror that his former master had created. He had always suffered through them himself, alone, because to reveal them to anyone would be showing weakness and that was one thing he simply would not do. However, he couldn't bear seeing Hermione suffering so, though he hadn't the first clue how to help her.

Moppy appeared in with a loud crack at the commotion his witch was making.

"Master Thorfinn," she squeaked. "What is wrong with mistress?"

"It's a panic attack Moppy." Thorfinn explained, fidgeting about his witch.

"Oh. This I fix," Moppy exclaimed and then suddenly was slapping at his hands to shoo him away from Hermione. In the next instant after he moved far enough away. Moppy raised her right hand and swooshed it through the air until it collided with Hermione's left cheek in a hard slap, and whipped her head to the side. Before the witch could even protest with an ouch, the elf had repeated the motion on the other cheek.

It was effective, as the witch had stopped breathing fast and sobbing in the chair, but it had also made the little witch quite angry if the look she was giving Moppy was any inclination to her feelings.

"What the hell Moppy?" Hermione shouted out holding her face in her hands.

'Oh shush, it got you to stop didn't it?" queried the elf in reply. Then the elf summoned a glass of fire whisky and shoved it at the witch. "Drink up it will help. A sharp slap and a stiff drink and you'll be right as rain."

"That hurt." Hermione muttered sullenly, but sipped the Ogden's anyway. Of course the elf was right, Hermione had calmed down loads by that point and the alcohol gave her hands something to do besides shake. "Thank you Moppy."

"You is welcome Mistress." The elf said, having become more used to Hermione expressions of gratitude and then left the room.

Hermione held on to her glass with both hands and looked at Finn.

"You okay?" He asked her finally.

"I'm calm. I wouldn't go so far as to say I'm okay. I am beginning to wonder if I'll ever feel okay again." She replied.

"What happened?" Thorfinn questioned as he crossed the room to be closer to her. Hermione sensed his distress and stood from the chair, and pointed for him to sit. He gave her a look, not really wanted to sit but when she merely crossed her arms he sat down. She was settling into his lap in the next second.

"I really wish I wouldn't ever have to go back to that house." Hermione said. Thorfinn really wanted an answer to his question but he just waited patiently. "He, he's awful Finn."

"What happened?" He choked out, 'what happened when he was alone with you?" He was agitated, and had she not been on his lap he would have risen from the chair and began pacing the library.

"I thought it was just looks, maybe some comments, he's a creep, always has been, but he accosted me Finn. He cornered me in that cellar and he pressed himself against me, and he kissed me, and I… Finn if you hadn't been upstairs waiting I don't know how much further he would have taken it. And as it is he's deluded himself by thinking that I actually want him."

Thorfinn clench his fists at his sides. "I'm going to kill him."

"No Finn. No more killing, not you. We've already had too much killing." Hermione replied.

"He touched you!" Her wizard growled.

"Yes, but aside from having a bad taste in my mouth and wanting a hot shower, I am fine. I just want to steer clear of him."

"I wish it were that easy." He sighed.

"I know. I know it isn't that easy and that seeing him again is inevitable, but I love you Finn, and I don't want to be around that man." Hermione blurted and Thorfinn wondered if he had heard her right. Then he quickly decided that she probably didn't realize what she had just admitted and that he wouldn't dwell on it.

"Shh, Princess. I'll keep you safe."

"I probably will have to engage with him at some point, he already thinks he desirable and that I want him and I intrigue him so at some point this could escalate.' Hermione muttered.

'No!" Thorfinn said. "I will not let it."

"I don't know that you can promise that Finn." She said.

"Hermione, I swear it, I will not let it go that far. I got into this mess because I wanted to avoid you having to subject your body to any man, I won't damn well let you give it up for our mission." He reasoned but Hermione had stopped listening.

"I'm so sorry that I got you into this Mess." She yelled and then she ran from the library and down the hall to her room locking the door. Thorfinn looked after her for a while wondering why she was so upset.

Perhaps it hadn't been the best choice of words, but he was trying to tell her that he cared and that he was going to protect her ad she had gotten upset over that? Witches…..

* * *

Hermione was crying as she reached her room. She knew it was illogical and that she was overreacting but, she couldn't help it. She had told him she loved him and he had said nothing in return, he acted as if she hadn't said it at all. And then she had been talking about the very real possibility that she would have to have sex with Malfoy, because it was part of her cover, she was a flight, causal American, and despicable men like Malfoy made that seem like she was a loose woman, because she didn't behave as typical pureblood ladies in their high society would. And he had her backed into a corner, and even though she hadn't kissed him back he had still thought that the fact she wasn't pushing him away was a sign she wanted him. The thought made her sick, but she was stuck if she backed away from him now, it would bring unwanted attention to them, and the last thing they needed was people scrutinizing their life and discovering they weren't what they seem.

It was a mess, Hermione knew that, but it hurt to have Thorfinn so blatantly call it that to her. She sobbed as she stood under the hot spray of water and rubbed her skin raw. She wanted the night to be over, she wanted the remnants of Malfoy, and his house removed from her skin. She wanted to curl up and sleep away until the whole dammed world ended.

She was bleeding, she observed as she saw the red streams get washed down the drain, but she didn't care, she just kept scrubbing, she didn't feel the pain, and she didn't feel clean yet, so scrub she did. She was about to add more soap to her sponge when Thorfinn came in to the room after casting the unlocking charm on her room.

He was worried about her, and he felt guilty. He heard the water running from the bathroom and realized that his witch was still in the shower, over an hour after he had ran from him in the library.

He had already been concerned, and now he was even more so. He knocked on the door, but didn't hear an answer so he opened the door slightly and poked his head in. he heard a muffled his from the shower, and called out.

"Hermione?"

The witch still didn't answer. He stepped fully into the room and crossed over to where the fluffy green towel hung on the rack and pulled it lose.

"Hermione." He called again.

"Finn?" His witch asked quietly, holding back tears from the pain that was creeping in from her raw skin.

"Yeah, you've been in there awhile, come on out, I've got a towel ready."

"Okay." She said and turned the water off. "Close your eyes."

"There closed" he said when he shut them a moment later. He heard the Curtin open and then felt as she stepped out of the tub and into his arms, so he wrapped the towel around her and opened his eyes.

When he looked at her he had to fight back the yell. "Hell's witch. What did you do to yourself?"

"I was bleeding a little bit, but it doesn't hurt."

"Hermione you scrubbed your skin raw, I'd be surprised if you had nay left." He growled at her.

"Oh."

"Oh? OH? Merlin save me, you are going to be the death of me for worry." Thorfinn exclaimed and picked her up and carried her to her bed. "Now what are we going to do about this?"


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: It's shorter, but there is smut! Enjoy, and thanks to all my loyal readers.**

* * *

Hermione thought that her Viking was overreacting. She hadn't rubbed her skin completely raw, had she? She was determined to show him just how much he was overreacting, but when she looked down at her arms, which were untucked from the towel that Thorfinn had wrapped around her after her shower, she gasped. He wasn't lying to her, she was still bleeding in some places, and the skin was completely red and swollen, from where she had scrubbed excessively.

"Why didn't you stop?" Thorfinn was muttering curse words under his breath after he asked her the question.

"I didn't feel clean enough," Hermione whispered, "I just couldn't feel clean and I wanted to be clean."

"Fuck." Thorfinn groaned out. "Princess, I'm sorry." He replied.

"It's not your fault." She began but Thorfinn did not agree. He realized the reason she had scrubbed herself until there wasn't anything left to scrub, and it was in large part due to his actions when they returned to the mansion. The whole scene in the library could have gone worlds better. He behaved poorly. First of all he should have recognized by the fact that his witch, his strong, well-balanced, fierce, witch, had been having a panic attack that she was more fragile than normal. And sure he had soothed her, but then he jumped down her throat. He was the one responsible for making her feel unclean.

Lucius bloody Malfoy may have been the one that assaulted her in the first place, the one that had sparked her freak out from earlier, but the wizard accepted full responsibility for making her feel dirty. Had he not shouted at her in the library that the other, older wizard had touched her, she may not have felt the need to scrub herself to a bloody mess. And then when she tried to express to him that while she wasn't okay with what had transpired, that she realized that for their cause, their rebellion, that she would likely have to deal with the bastard and other assaults from many other wizards, he had raved at her for it. His possessive nature, and his desire to protect his witch made him adamant that she shouldn't have to endure what she had. And that had probably only added to her feeling of being filthy.

"I'm so sorry." He repeated. This time she didn't reply so he continued. "Let's get you fixed up."

"Okay." She replied.

Thorfinn accioed a jar of healing salve that he had in store, he kept it on hand because he had been flogged on more than one occasion by the dark lord, and he didn't trust that if he disappointed the new leader of the regime that similar punishments would not occur. Yes, the dark lord often used the cruciatus curse as a means to dole out justice and demand continued service, but when it came to Thorfinn and some of the other bigger wizards, he often used other methods of humiliation. Because of Thorfinn's size, he often recovered from the effects of the cruciatus quite quickly. It was still the worst kind of pain imaginable, but the aftereffects didn't last as long as they did for the other followers. So a public flogging caused enough pain to satisfy the dark lord, and cause him to humiliate himself for the audience. So the white paste in the jar had skin healing components that also helped prevent scaring.

"This is probably going to hurt, Princess." He explained. "Let's get you a pain potion first." He commented and once he accioed that as well, brought the vile of blue liquid to her lips. She took it eagerly. Then Thorfinn set to work, as gently as he could, rubbing the paste onto her arms and legs where she had caused the most damage.

She was trying not to cry, but she couldn't help the indrawn breath, and Thorfinn knew that despite the premeditative pain potion that it still hurt. When he was done rubbing the potion on he was annoyed to see that it wasn't taking well.

"The glamour," Hermione said, "I caused damage to myself, the glamour is masking my appearance, so it likely won't work while I'm under the glamour."

"Finite," Thorfinn hissed and waved his wand immediately to drop the enchantment over her. Slowly, the features that she had become accustomed to faded away and the witch he had longed to see for quite some time returned. However, he didn't let himself think about that quite yet, he checked first to ensure that she was healing, which his was relived to realize that she was.

"Oh, that feel so much better," Hermione exclaimed without the lilt in her voice that had helped disguise herself all those weeks. Thorfinn chuckled.

"I'm glad Princess. And it's nice to see you."

"Yes. It is nice to be back to normal. Even if it is just for a short time." Hermione said.

"I can only imagine."

"I love you Finn." Hermione tried again to express her feelings to him. It had hurt when he hadn't replied in the library, and she realized that she was setting herself up for further rejection, but she needed him to know. This time, Thorfinn couldn't deny what she had just said, he had heard her plain as day. And contemplating a moment he realized that the built up feelings he had accumulated since bringing her here, the feelings he couldn't place a name to, were just that, feelings of love. He loved his witch, it was the only thing to explain why he was so crazy and overprotective of her.

"I love you too, Hermione." He replied. Hermione sighed contently. Later she would ask him why he hadn't responded the first time, share with him why she had run from the library, but not right then. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to show him just what she wanted from him. She threw her arms around his neck and dragged his face to hers and she kissed him, deeply, passionately, and full of need and longing, and more forcefully than she ever had disguised as Blair. Her wizard kissed her back with just as much response.

His tongue was meddling with hers as she tugged him to lay on top of her. He was heavy, and all but enveloped her whole stature just in his upper body, but she reveled in the feel of his toned chest against her and how it felt to have his weight pushing her into the plush mattress.

Thorfinn propped himself up on an elbow, not wanting to smother his witch, and slowly tugged the towel down, away from her breasts, and caressed one of the silky, pale mounds in his callused hand. She shivered at the contact, and arched her back to thrust them out towards him, wanting, needing more. He broke the kiss.

"Princess, I…"

"Shhhh, Finn, I'm me again, and I want you." She whispered.

That was all he needed before he tugged the towel all the way off and tossed it out of his way.

"No fair, you have me completely naked, but you are still clothed." She protested and began tugging at his silk, white button-down shirt. He helped her with the buttons and she had it off his muscular shoulders in record time.

He began kissing his way down her neck, towards her breasts and slowly sucked one of her deliciously pink nipples into his mouth, which had Hermione moaning under him. Not one to ignore giving attention to the other twin, he repeated the motion on the other side, before continuing his way down. Thorfinn kissed her stomach, her belly button, her naval, and then his mouth as there, at her hot core, kissing, licking and sucking at her. She was writhing beneath him.

"Tastes good." He muttered briefly before digging into her again, using his fingers to spread her nether lips an inserting a finger inside, thrusting it in and out. They made it up to three fingers when his mouth closed over her clit and sucked hard on it before she unraveled around him. Of course, that didn't stop him from continuing, as he continued to lap at her until she was clean.

Hermione panted under him and tugged at his hair until she had his mouth back on her's. She didn't care that she could still taste herself on him when she tangled her tongue with his. She pushed at him until he turned and she was straddling him.

"My turn to play." She smirked and running her hands over his abs, agonizingly slowly slid her way down his body, kissing his chest and stomach as she went, When she reached his belly button she undid his belt and slid the zipper down on his black trousers, He was already unbuttoning them and grinned wickedly at her as she tugged them down.

"No boxers, Finn?" she laughed playfully as his erect member sprung free from his pants. Whatever reply he was going to give, died as she wrapped her hand around him, turning instead to a deep groan.

"Finn?" Hermione asked as she stroked him.

"Hmmmm?"

"Do you remember the first time we saw each other?" She replied and he forced his eyes open to gaze at her in awe.

"Princess, of course I remember." He said, "But you don't have to do that..."

"I guess I'll just have to work harder to make your forget then," she said with a mock frown, before she licked the tip of him. He gasped and she smiled before sliding him into her mouth.

"Fuck," he said, clutching the bedsheets tightly as she used her tongue on him. "Merlin." It felt good, he couldn't describe how good it felt, but her mouth on him was perfection. "Please, princess," he begged her and she obliged, sucking him in a little more, and beginning to bob her head up and down. She couldn't fit all of his girth into her mouth, so she used her hands on the base, as her other hand cupped his balls and rolled them gently in her palm.

It didn't take long, her wicked tongue and her sweet caresses, were pulling him closer and closer to the edge, and he groaned out a warning as he felt himself being pushed over.

"Princess, I'm gonna," He was cut off, when she only sucked on him harder, he expected her to pull off, not to draw him in more, but thought was lost to him as he came so hard he practically saw stars, and watched her as she swallowed all of his release. She let go of his deflated cock with a pop and wiped the spunk that had escaped her mouth away with her hand. Then she grinned at him wickedly. Little minx.

"Yeah, I'm never forget that." He said several minutes later when speech returned to him.

He shifted her so that she was between him and the bed once more and kissed her passionately, as he recovered himself. When he was erect and ready to go again, delighting in the little moans she made as he stroked at her body, he looked into her whiskey colored gaze, the eyes he had missed, and aligned himself with her entrance.

"Please," she pleaded with him. "Need you."

"You sure?" He knew she was a virgin, and wanted this to be slow and easy for her. She only nodded and ground her hips towards his. He slid into her, inch by slow inch until he came to her barrier. At her signal he slid all the way in and then stilled to give her a moment to adjust to his cock inside of her. He began to move slowly at first but as she began to move with him slowly picked up his pace, thrusting into her a little deeper and harder each time.

"So tight," he groaned, "And wet."

"Ungh" was all Hermione could say. He continued on and soon felt her muscles clamping down against him as she climaxed.

"Finn," She screamed out as she did, and between the feel of it and the sound of his name on his lips he soon followed after, thrusting in one more time before filling her with his hot seed.

Afterwards, they lay curled up on the bed, the towel long forgotten, and his own clothes thrown haphazardly across the suite, in each other's arms. Neither one of them could be more content than they were in that moment. But the moment did regrettably have to end and they both knew it. Thorfinn groaned, despairingly, even as he sat up to reach for his wand.

"Hermione, I have to replace the glamour, it's not safe."

"I know." Hermione replied. "It is okay."

"mutare aequum non tempus dicitur" Thorfinn said softly and pointed his wand and then made a swishing movement over her whole body. The glamour was much easier to set up this time. Now that Thorfinn had been living with Hermione looking like Blair that he didn't need to asses each and every part of her based on her collage, which he had burned already in any case. He just knew from his mind what Blair was supposed to look like, even though he mentally always pictured her as his curly haired temptress.

As soon as the spell was cast, the witch he loved features were once again obscured by the glamour named Blair. He blinked when he saw the tears in her eyes, thinking he was imagining them, but he wasn't.

"Oh princess, no, please don't cry." He said and scooped her into his arms.

"I can't help it, Finn, I'm going to miss this." Hermione wailed.

"What do you mean?" He asked suddenly worried.

"I'm not me anymore, and I know we have discussed many times how we both feel about intimacy when we are not ourselves. But Finn, it was so good, so nice, and I don't want it to end, even though I know it has to." She attempted explain.

"Oh Princess. You worry about the damndest things. Do you really think I'm going to let you go now that I've had you?" He asked as he slanted his mouth over hers.

"But I thought…"

"You thought right Hermione," Thorfinn sighed. "But did you not see how easy it was for me to replace your glamour?"

"Oh," Hermione uttered the realization hitting her, "I guess I had just assumed that you wouldn't want to risk dropping it a whole lot." Hermione muttered.

"You are correct that I don't want to take risks where it concerns you, but I am a man, and I do have needs, just like you. As long as we are cautious and aware, then it will be fine. You, little witch, are mine now."

"You've been saying I'm yours since I got here." She teased.

"I know, but now I really mean it. You are mine, and I'm never letting you go."

Hermione just cuddled up into him and nuzzled his neck.

"We should discuss the engagement party, the fake engagement party," Hermione corrected herself.

"Later. Right now, you need to sleep, it's been a trying day and though it ended hells of a lot better than I anticipated, it still has been long. I'm tired, so I know you are tired." Thorfinn finished his speech and was greeted by the sound of a soft snore. He grinned, the little witch was already asleep. "And here I was going to offer to tell you a bedtime story." He murmured on a chuckle.

"Story?" Hermione uttered sleepily. Thorfinn smirked. His witch never was one to turn down a story, or a book for that matter.

"Tomorrow. Just rest now." He said and kissed her forehead. She didn't hesitate to do what she was told. For once.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Hello all. Thanks again for all of your love and reviews. Many of you have read my other fic, Unconventional Love, and do know that it is now completed. However, I will still be continuing to keep my update schedule for DLG at once a week, as I have a new fic in the works, which she actually be posted up later this week. It is a Rabastan/Hermione pairing called Fragments. I encourage you all to check it out when it's live, but until then hope you enjoy chapter 17.**

* * *

Hermione and Finn had fallen into a pattern, every time that one or the other had a stressful or bad day, Hermione's glamour was dropped that night and the couple tumbled into bed, or any other surface in the well warded bedroom, together. Even if they were not "sleeping together" they were sleeping right next to each other every night, and in fact, Hermione had moved most of her belongings into Finn's own rooms.

It had been several weeks since that night at Malfoy manor and the night she had given her virginity to him. The house elves had been excited at the new living arrangements between them, and if Hermione had found it difficult to get Moppy to not call her mistress before, it was now impossible. The head elf insisted that Hermione was the new Mistress of Rowle mansion, clucked her tongue that it was out of wedlock still as yet, but the creature's eyes shone bright with excitement, pride and joy for Hermione and Thorfinn.

Of course there was a lot more that occurred over the weeks. Hermione had gone shopping with Narcissa Malfoy the week following the dinner party. The blonde looked a little worse for wear, she was paler, had dark circles under her eyes, and looked like she was in nearly constant state of discomfort. Hermione didn't bring it up of course, but it was obvious that the Minister had done some to retaliate against his wife for trying to kill him at the dinner.

She supposed it was a good thing, not that Narcissa was being harmed in some evident way, but that the witch just didn't have energy enough to retaliate against her. Because Draco had warned her in an owl the day before the shopping trip, that his mother had poisoned his father because of the way he was flirting openly with Blair, Hermione had expected the witch to be plotting against her. He had explained that while both his parents carried on with private affairs that Narcissa was still quite jealous and had not appreciated her husband's newest conquest being flaunted right under her nose. Not that Hermione wanted to be Malfoy's conquest in any case, and had she not been an enemy during her entire childhood, Hermione might actually sympathize with the woman. Hermione was just glad that the excursion went by with no trouble and was now over.

Then there had been the little get together at Dolohov's residence. Hermione still felt sick to her stomach when she relived that. She of course had a dark history with Dolohov, the wizard she had silenced in the department of mysteries, who had retaliated with a severe slicing hex, that she still carried the scar for to this day. She still wished that she had just thought to stupefy the bastard.

Thorfinn and she were invited, in a way that made a refusal seem impolite and impossible for them to do so, for a game night of sorts. It was not at all what she had been expecting, and having her two friends and allies flaunted right in front of her, naked and brutalized, was horrifying for her to endure. Dolohov was a sick, sick man.

Draco had also come over for another "tea" with Blair, and had brought with him his friends. Blaise Zabbini and Theo Nott, Pansy Parkinson and even Daphne Greengrass, Theo's intended, were all potential new recruits to their little organization. But as yet, Thorfinn was just keeping a watchful eye on them. However the witches actually seemed to get along fairly well and had gone on a spa day together just the other day.

And now, Hermione was preparing herself for the engagement gala they were hosting that night. They had discussed the necessity of the event, as it was pretty standard that the elite families would have such parties in celebration of unions, and it would be unusual for them to not have one. Of course both Thorfinn and Hermione were uncomfortable with idea of many of their enemies running freely around the house, but neither saw a way to avoid it. They decided instead to make it more informal than most such parties would be. It was to be a dinner party with some dancing later on as well, but there would be no ice sculptures, fountains, or event planners for this function, they agreed to save the elaborate decorations and crazy themes for an actual wedding. One they agreed would actually occur when this whole shit storm was over and done with.

Which is why the little witch was currently assembled at the bottom of the stairs, arm in arm with Finn and dressed in a long, formal, ball gown of black satin. She had her hair pulled up into a French twist in a true Aubrey Hepburn style. Guests began filtering into the house and she pasted an acceptably polite and enthusiastic grin on her face to greet them.

Once the guests were all gathered and mingling with drinks in hand from the little bar she had hired on for the evening, Hermione sighed in relief. She was tense, because she was once again acting like she was delighted to see people that she despised, hated and even wanted to outright kill were she given the chance. Most of wizards present terrified her, and as for their wives, (at least the ones that were not her own acquaintances in captivity) they were comparable to sleeping bears. They would fuss over and coo at you if they thought you were one of them, but the moment they sensed you were an outsider, or not within their circle, teeth and claws came out. They were in short, not women she had any desire to associate herself with. But she had no choice.

Hermione and Thorfinn sat at the head of the table in the magically enlarged dining room, as the rest of the crowd took their own seats, for dinner. Hermione had spent a long time planning the menu, wanting it to be a perfect blend of upscale dishes the wizarding community may be accustomed to and a flare of the dramatic American food as well, to further her cover as being a half-blood American witch. Each place setting at the table included a menu which listed everything out so that each person could simply place their order with the elves.

The first course was an assembly of hors d-oeuvres which included, bacon wrapped water chestnuts, shrimp cocktail, caviar and spinach artichoke spread with sourdough bread. The wine choice was a chardonnay or a merlot. The second course was a choice between a Caesar salad or the other option was a pea soup. The wine pairing was a Sauvignon Blanc. The main course was rack of lamb or a baked halibut. The selected wine was either a red bordeaux or a Pinot Noir. And finally dessert was rhubarb & strawberry pavlova or a chocolate cheesecake. Guests could opt for another wine, a Riesling or for a dessert brandy and coffee was also available.

To Hermione's dismay, Walden Macnair sat directly across the table from her, and he was leering at her, his expression a mix between unreadable and irate. Lucius Malfoy was seated beside her, and the man had the nerve to place his hand on her thigh beneath the white tablecloth that covered them from view. He was making circular patterns with his fingers, wrinkling the material of her dress, even though his head was turned and he was engaging in a conversation with Augustus Rookwood who was seated down the table a ways. She had not before met his acquaintance, well as Blair. She had been the object of some of his hexes during the final battle, though she managed to block all of them from actually hitting their mark.

Hermione wanted nothing more than to rip the bastard's hand from her person, but she restrained herself. She had to pretend to like him she mentally argued. Lucius was deluded in his thinking that she was attracted to him. Aside from the fact that she was in disguise and acting to maintain the persona of Blair but was really a witch who he had physically and mentally targeted with hate and resentment, who hated his guts, she had not even done anything to lead him to this thinking as Blair. She had not flirted, had not put on a show of being impressed by his charm and guile, she was merely a polite dinner guest who clung to the arm of her own Fiancé with all her might. She honestly was flabbergasted that he had somehow come to the idea that she wanted him, but the creep was arrogant and self-confident enough to believe that he was irresistible and therefore she simply must be attracted to him. He also wasn't a wizard who would take no for an answer, and once he set his eye on something, he would get it. As Draco had always bragged, even in school, A Malfoy always gets what they want. And it seemed Lucius Malfoy wanted her.

So she didn't push him away, just let him run his fingers over her, and choked back the rising bile that she felt when she realized that at some point she would very likely have to snog him again, if not sleep with him, just to keep him distracted from investigating anything. As much as she hated the idea, Hermione knew that it was a powerful tool in their arsenal. Lucius was the Minister of Magic, the leader of this new regime, he appointed the position of the lords and had the ability to take it all away. With enemies like Macnair looking to expose her for her true self, having a besotted Malfoy lusting after her was in a way a defense. The man would defend her, or at the very least he would become annoyed and angry at claims that she wasn't who she said and refuse to look into the subject without irreplaceable proof, so long as he thought he was getting something from her.

She ignored the fact that his fingers were creeping ever closer to inner thighs, and the apex between them, and made idle chit-chat with Pansy and Daphne as well as Theo and Blaise who were just down the table from Macnair and Nott Sr.

"What were your scores in school?" Theo asked her, as they were all discussing wizarding careers and education between them. She smiled happily, knowing that in her Hogwarts day's she had the highest marks of all, but knew she had to play it down.

"I suppose they were well enough, I mean I didn't make a point of studying overly much but my grades were still above the average, though I wasn't in the top percentage of my class." She lied.

"Oh. And forgive me for asking, but what profession were you trying to seek?" Theo asked again.

"Well, I hadn't yet decided. I had thought perhaps of pursuing a mastery in charms, which had always been my best subject in school. Though I didn't want to be a curse breaker or anything like it so I didn't know how useful it would be. I mean I know I could always teach with a mastery in a subject, but I'm not sure that it really interests me to do so. And you know, now I'm here and I don't know what I'm even qualified to do." She explained, very careful to not slip up under the watchful eyes of Walden who was keenly listening. Thorfinn was talking to him and to Dolohov seated on his left about business, and so while the brute responded once in a while to seem as though he was listening to Finn, Blair had no doubt that he was focused on catching her in a lie.

"Well surely you couldn't just spend all your time here with nothing to do." Theo argued.

"And why can't she?" Piped in Pansy indignantly. "There is plenty for witches to do from home, organize parties, start charities, volunteer, and it's all perfectly respectable. She doesn't need a job." The dark haired witch berated a now red faced Theo.

"It's okay Pansy." Hermione interjected on his behalf. "I can see his point. Though of course what you say is very true as well. At the moment I am content to stay here, I have enough to fill my time with planning this party and trying to learn more about the community I now reside in. Though in the future, having a career is a real possibility."

* * *

The dinner ended shortly after that whole debate between the budding friends, and Hermione excused herself to go and freshen up, just needing the moment to herself.

She had just exited her bedroom to make her way back down stairs when she was cornered by Macnair.

"My Lord, what are you doing up here, can I help you find anything?" She asked politely trying to remain calm, but feeling the bubble of fear form inside of her.

"Oh you can help me alright little bird. You can tell me who you really are." He replied in a menacing tone. She played dumb even as she scanned the hall for the fastest escape route.

"I don't know what you are talking about my lord." She said quickly.

"I think that you do, mudblood." He spat at her. "I'm getting tired of the games, and it's time for you to be honest."

"How dare you?" Hermione hissed at him and slapped him across the face hard. He retaliated with a slap of his own which split her lip and then he seized her hands. "I am not a no-mage born!" She yelled at him, "And it is totally inappropriate for you to accuse me of being so. Now unhand me this instance."

He didn't of course, he lumbered over her and tightened the hold he had on her wrists as he shoved her backwards into the bedroom.

"You ever hit me again you little bitch and you won't like what happens. Now admit that you are hiding something, or I will make you."

"I am hiding nothing!" she explained in a furious way, but it was the terror fueling it. In the next instance he slapped her, hard, again and she was knocked to the floor.

"I'm sick of your lies, mudblood." He bellowed and before she could scream out for help he silenced her. "Finite Incantum." He enunciated, in an effort to remove her glamour.

Of course it didn't work. The failsafe was that only she or Thorfinn could drop the glamour, so it held when he tried and he bellowed out furiously, when it didn't fall for him. He changed his tactic. "Imperio."

A sudden sense of emptiness, of being lightweight, like a feather floating in a gentle wind came over Hermione. She knew it wasn't natural, but she couldn't really think long enough to care, she just waited for something to happen.

"Get on your knees." He ordered her and Hermione clambered up to be sitting on her knees. Her conscious tried to fight the curse but it was too strong. "Now suck me off." He commanded. He was testing to see how well this worked, to see if he could get her to tell him how to reveal her true self. He might as well get some pleasure out of it if he could. She was about to reach for his belt, unable to do any different when the door the room burst open.

"Stupify!" Macnair fell to the ground stunned and the effects of his unforgivable over Hermione ceased immediately. She expected to see Thorfinn, but was shocked to see Lucuis.

"Blair?" he asked in a concerned tone. "I came up to find you as you disappeared, are you okay?"

No, she was not okay, she thought bitterly. She considered a moment how exactly she should react, what the best endgame was for this horrific scenario. She wanted Finn, but she didn't think Lucius would be happy if she said that, he was probably expecting her to show gratitude for his rescue. To which she was grateful, even if it was only for the rescue and not the actual rescuer. So that was what she pretended to do. She ran into his arms as soon as she got to her feet, shaking, and acted as though she was seeking his comfort.

"Thank you so much Lucius, thank you for coming to find me. I fear I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't." She murmured.

"Shh…. Shh now dear girl. It's okay." He said smugly as he patted her back. "Why don't you return to the party? It seems I have a wayward follower to deal with."

Hermione was so glad that he didn't push for more. Oh she was certain that he would expect a reward from her later, but for now she could go and seek out Finn. She didn't hesitate to do so. She did however, add "Really, Thank you my lord."

"Of course my dear." The blonde replied and Hermione rushed down the stairs. She immediately found Finn, who was talking to Theo and Blaise alongside Draco, it looked like they were talking politics, he was gathering their view on the new order, and it seemed as though they were as Draco said, unhappy with the influence of their father's.

She saddled up to his side quickly and tugged his arms across her waist. She received odd expressions from the boys until the realized she was obviously upset and that mascara had begun to run down her face from her terrified tears.

"Darling what is it?" Thorfinn asked, his face darkening. She shook her head and tried to smile as though nothing was wrong, though she wasn't fooling any of them.

"Blair, you are shaking like a leaf, what happened?" Draco asked almost equally as concerned, and she realized that, seeing as he was in on the big secret, he probably was. She was saved from answering when a moment later Lucius came down the stairs, struggling with a fighting Macnair.

"Some help please. I caught this piece of scum assaulting Miss. Nightshade upstairs." Lucius announced in a tight voice. Thorfinn instinctively tensed beside her, enraged, and she could feel the heat as flames began to spark on his jacket sleeve. She turned her face into his chest, to hide from the now shocked guests so she didn't see Lestrange and Dolohov come to the assistance of the minister and drag Macnair from the mansion to Merlin knew where.

"Relax Thorfinn. Don't burn your house down mate." Draco said through clenched teeth. "Blair is fine, you have her." At the same time as he was trying to calm the fury radiating within Thorfinn, Theo and Blaise began shuffling the guests out of the house, insisting that the party had come to an end, and Hermione could no longer hold back her sobs, now that she was safe in her love's arms.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Thanks for all of your continued support. You are all in for a little treat as this chapter includes a little bit of Lucius's POV. So enjoy chapter 18.**

The green, orange and purplish flames that had been crawling up Thorfinn's forearms receded as he took slow, deep breaths and held his witch in his arms. Hermione was still sobbing into his chest, all of the emotion she had repressed to remain composed pouring out of her.

Acting first, and not thinking, Thorfinn scooped her up into his arms and sprinted for the library, the one place he knew made her feel safe in this place. Too focused on getting her to a spot where she felt comfortable, he didn't pause to listen to the five sets of pounding footsteps echoing behind him.

Once in the library he set the witch in her favorite chair by the fireplace. It took a couple of moments but her tears began to abate slowly and she calmed down marginally.

Draco looked at her in the chair and then assessed the surroundings with a small smirk. Of course the Gryffindor princess would find comfort in a place with this many books. He held back his snort, just barley. Thorfinn still shot a glare his way. The blonde wizard towered over Hermione's chair and refused to move more than a few feet from her. Daphne and Pansy were also close to Hermione's chair trying to show their support for her. Both of the witches were reigning their outrage over what had occurred.

Blaise and Theo looked bloody well confused, so Draco attempted to do the same.

"Would someone please explain to me, what in the fuck just happened?" Theo questioned.

"Theo, mate, really." Blaise hissed at him. "Don't you think you should keep it cool?" He looked towards where Blair sat in the chair, and felt his own desire for answers rise within him. But he had the decency to be patient when the poor witch had just been attacked in her own home, Merlin's hairy balls, at her own fucking engagement party.

"No!" Theo yelled out in response to his friend. "I am not an idiot. I know that there is more to what just happened than what we explained to the guests." Draco looked at Thorfinn imploringly, signaling him to do something. He had not as yet spoken a single word since his father had come dragging that brute down the stairs.

"He's right." Blaise agreed, "tactless in his timing, but he is right. What is going on here?"

Thorfinn looked Draco in his eyes for one last confirmation that these wizards and subsequently the two witches could be trusted. The circumstance was not ideal, because he hadn't as much time to assess them for himself, but it seemed he was pressed between a rock and a hard place on the matter now. He was going to have to explain something to them; it would be easier not to lie. Draco nodded once to confirm that he would trust them with his life.

"Macnair is suspicious of Blair." Thorfinn finally said. "He thinks she isn't who we say she is."

"So?" Pansy questioned. "She is isn't she?"

"Well," Thorfinn ran his hands through his long, wavy blonde locks in frustration. "Technically, no."

"Oh." Was all the dark haired witch could say in reply.

"Start talking, Thor." Theo stated. But it was Hermione who took the advice.

"I am not Blair Nightshade." She began. "Four months ago, I was being hunted down and stalked by Macnair so he could claim me for the Godric awful placement program the esteemed minister enforces."

"So who are you?" asked Blaise in a surprised tone.

"Hermione Granger." The witch answered. The room silenced so noticeable they would have heard a pin drop until it erupted into shocked chatter.

"What?" Four voices exclaimed all at once.

"Mudblood Granger. You might know me as." The witch responded looking at each Slytherin in the room.

"No. I never called you that." Theo replied, "That was Draco here."

"Yeah," Blaise agreed. "Draco. Wait, did you know about this?" The dark skinned Italian wizard directed to the pale blonde.

"I did." He confessed. "I've known for weeks." Three sets of stony eyes faced him with furious glares. Madness broke out as Pansy and the two young wizards began to berate him for knowing about this.

"Okay!" Daphne, who had been until this point speechless, shouted at the room. "Enough, would you all let Hermione explain what is going on here?" The room quieted once more and everyone looked at the witch in the chair. Thorfinn reached for her hand, for comfort.

"Four months ago, as I've said, I was being hunted and stalked by Macnair. He was toying with me, trying to scare me before actually calling the snatchers to come and capture me. I wasn't playing his games, I was just going about my business, going to classes and trying to survive. I was terrified though, in denial about how real it all was, and horrified by how close he was to me. At that point I do even know what they were doing with captives. I just assumed it was really bad." She relayed the beginning of the truth to the assembled group.

"Until one night I was having drinks with Walden and your father, Theo. Macnair was boasting about exactly what he was going to do with and I quote "his prized bird when he got his hands on her." I knew then that I had to find her and help her get away because nobody deserves the treatment he had planned. Theo, he was going to share her with your father if you catch my drift." Theo notably shuddered when Thorfinn said that. "So I kidnapped her first, before Macnair could."

"It wasn't really kidnapping. More like he scared me half to death making me think I'd been caught, and we have a history, so he wasn't really a welcome sight. But he explained to me what fate awaited me if I hung about waiting for Macnair to get bored of toying with me and actually take me. So without anywhere else to go, and still half afraid that it was all a trap, I allowed Finn to take me. From there we established a glamour, created a backstory and well here we are." Hermione finished.

"How did Draco find out?" Theo asked.

"Macnair still doesn't believe that Blair is who she says, and has been digging since she first arrived. He isn't a dumb as he looks, or acts. I tried warning him off, and he pummeled me because he wanted to keep me silent and not tell my father anything. I came straight here to warn Thor, and Granger here pulled out her wand and healed me in her usually swotty style. I knew then who she was." Draco replied.

"Why didn't you tell your father?" Pansy asked. "You know the whereabouts of a wanted resistance fighter, leader really, and you know he will kill you if he finds out you knew and said nothing." Hermione was momentarily afraid at her statement, Pansy had been the one who wanted to turn Harry into Voldemort to save her own ass. But Draco defended himself.

"Pansy, you can tell my father if you wish, any of you can if you want, but I couldn't care less. I survived living with Voldemort, we all did, and even though he was killed my father continues his own reign of terror. Forgive me, if I want to see that end."

"I don't blame you." Pansy replied. "I'm glad you didn't tell. I may have never liked you in school Granger, but you are really our one hope of getting some semblance of normalcy back."

"I didn't do anything." Hermione choked out. "I ran away. I didn't help the resistance, I hid in the muggle world. I'm not somebody you should look up to."

"You think we blame you for running away?" Daphne asked of her. "Hell, I hid in my house, the whole bloody war and after the fact."

"I kept my head down and only fought if I had to survive, too coward to even take the mark." Blaise admitted.

"Hell, I never stopped my father when he hosted revels, raped women or brutalized his wives, I just stayed away from his as much as possible." Theo added.

"And we all know I was out to save my own hide and would throw anybody and anything under the bus to stay afloat."

"And you, princess, you starved and froze in a forest for months, hunting horcruxes and robbed a bank and broke out riding a dragon and never once stopped fighting for what was right." Thorfinn said to her. "We have all looked up to you." Hermione just sighed.

"We want to take the system down." Draco explained to everybody present. "What is left of the resistance is too far outsourced to be effective in taking the regime down. But if there is a coup from the inside, it may just be possible."

"Count me in." Theo expressed. "Anything that puts my father behind bars is a cause I'm happy to pledge myself to."

"I'm in to." Daphne chimed. "I'm tired of hiding. I want to do something. And Theo's father is terrifying. I'd rather not live in the same estate as him."

"I'll join to," Blaise said. "I've been considering leaving England because of the new regime, but I'd rather not live in Italy with my mother and her latest conquest."

"To avoid being in the minority, I'm in as well." Pansy vowed.

"Hermione's identity must be protected at all costs." Thorfinn said tightly. Four heads nodded in agreement.

"What happened anyway?" Daphne asked Hermione. Thorfinn who also wanted to know, looked at his witch.

"Princess?"

"I had stepped away for a moment, I just need a minute alone after dinner. Macnair had been leering at me the whole time and Lucius wouldn't take his hand of my though all through the meal." Hermione said.

"Gross." Pansy said.

"I didn't need to know that." Draco protested at the same time.

"Anyway, I went up to our room, Finn and was about to come back down, when Macnair cornered me in the hall. He tried to drop the glamour and demanded that I tell him who I really was. When I refused He imperisued me. He was about to make me…." Hermione cut off, hyperventilating slightly. Daphne grabbed her hand and squeezed gently.

"It's okay Hermione. You don't have to elaborate, I'm sure we can all understand what he had tried to get you to do."

"Lucius stupefied him." Hermione said. "I'm sure he'll expect some kind of payment in kind for it."

"And I will pay it." Thorfinn growled out. "I'm sorry, princess. I should have been there."

"You can't follow me around everywhere, Finn." Hermione admonished. "I should have been more careful. And I don't think that what Lucuis wants as payment is something you can give him. It's not something I will give him. Which means we have another problem."

"Is my father going after you?" Draco asked suddenly concerned.

"He has made his desire known." Hermione replied.

"Fuck." Draco hissed. "I can try and talk to him if you wish, but I don't know how much good it would do."

"No. It's okay." She told him.

"If you all don't mind, I'm going to go take Hermione to talk. If you have questions Draco can fill you in until we get back. Thorfinn informed the group.

They had a small resistance of their own formed. The question was just how effective it would be. Hermione smiled apologetically at her peers, but knew Thorfinn wouldn't take no for an answer. And she needed to not be around people, talking about the very men who terrified her most after she was just assaulted by one and saved by the other was not the most beneficial scenario. She needed to unwind and Finn was the only one she was willing to let help her.

* * *

Lucius was quite pleased, he thought. All through the dinner the delightful little witch had allowed him to draw little patterns on his thigh. He couldn't say he particularly liked the fact that her dress was so long. He detested it, in fact, because he couldn't slip his hand under the hem of the smooth fabric to caress her bare flesh. But all the same he had stroked her over the material all through dinner, and was glad she didn't move to push him off. Not that he expected her to, he knew she desired him after all, and they would soon be together, but women often did things that were displeasing. His wife had not spoken to him since that dinner party where she attempted to poison him with his nut allergy.

Of course he had retaliated with a much worse punishment that ensured Narcissa couldn't sit for a week. He enjoyed that it seemed his newest to-be mistress would not play coy little games with him. When the meal finished he noticed that she disappeared upstairs. He smirked, assuming it was an invitation, considering she looked in his direction as she vanished. Regrettably he was in the middle of a discussion with some of his associates that he couldn't extract himself from easily. He finished the conversation, but in so doing had not seen Macnair slip up the stairs as well. When he was finally able to part from the company he snuck his way out of the ballroom to seek out the little witch. He desired her, and while he knew that he couldn't make sweet, slow, passionate love to her, like he wanted, tonight, he figured there was some time to slip away for some stolen moments.

So he slipped upstairs unnoticed himself. Though his mood shifted as he was on the last flight when he heard a muffled yell. Was that bitch with somebody up there? Somebody who wasn't him? His face began to redden with rage and he set his mouth in a grim line.

Then he heard the echo of what he knew was a hand colliding with a cheek and a resounding whimper of pain. Well, he thought, she wasn't alone but it didn't sound like the company was welcome company. He forced his feet to move the rest of the way upwards quickly, and he went running down the infernal hallway towards the sound. He heard a door close and he hadn't seen which one. He had no idea which door to choose. He waited and he listened, and the next sound he heard he went full force through the door wand at the ready.

"Stupefy" he shouted, hexing first looking second. Not the best tactic he supposed but in this case it worked just fine as the tall, burley, wizard fell to the ground with a loud thump. It revealed to him Blair on her knees, tears rolling down her face, and he could see the blood on her lip from where she had been hit. The sight of her on her knees made him think things, it would have been a very enjoyable sight if she was there willingly, and he was the one standing before him. He felt his body stir at the thought, and forced himself to focus. It was clear that the witch had not been a willing participant in this situation. He looked down at the fallen wizard to check his identity. Macnair. Lucius growled lowly.

"Are you okay?" He asked her.

In the next instant the witch was in his arms. He smirked as she sought him out for comfort and was happy to rub her on her back and oblige her. She embraced him for a minute or so more before she began to thank him profusely for saving her. Women and dramatics, he thought.

"Blair darling. Why don't you return to the party while I deal with this?" He suggested. He had to handle the situation. Macnair had dared to touch what did not belong to him, messed with witch Blair without permission to do so. A witch for who all intents and purposes was celebrating her engagement party to another bloke. Because Lucius knew that she really did desire him, and would enjoy being his mistress it didn't matter that he had similar thoughts. Besides he was the minister and he could do as he bloody well pleased. Macnair did not have that right. Oh he would enjoy this.

The witch in his arms shifted as she pulled away from him. She departed the room, to allow him to clean up the mess and went to find comfort elsewhere. He would talk to her about this when the matter at hand had been dealt with.

He hauled the offender up by his collar. He began dragging him down the hall towards the stairs a firm grip on his collar and his wand pointed at his throat. Of course it didn't stop the captive from fighting back and Lucius resorted to a couple of stinging hexes. Subdued he managed to get them both down the stairs where he demanded assistance. When the assembled guests heard what had happened, there was no hesitation as his comrades rushed to action. Lestrange and Dolohov reached them first, and with more muscle to and wands to hold Macnair, carted him off the grounds to the nearest apparition point. They had an appointment in the mayor's dungeons.


	19. Chapter 19

Once alone with Thorfinn in the safety of her bedroom, Hermione stopped shaking. Thorfinn had been smart to bring her to the suite of rooms he had given her when she arrived, instead of bringing her back to his rooms, even though she all but moved into them. Since the assault had occurred in his room, he had assumed correctly that she wouldn't want to return there.

The wizard was still agitated, though less so now that he saw she was doing a little better. "Bloody Hell," he spoke in exasperation. He had no idea what to do, feelings of worry and outrage running rampant through his mind. His witch looked up at him with sad, doe eyes, and patted the spot next to her on the bed. He sighed, but sat down none-the-less and pulled Hermione into his arms.

Part of him wanted to admonish her to be more careful, but logically, he knew that she had been. She was right, he couldn't be with her every second of the day, and even though she had stepped away from the party, it wasn't as though she had expected anybody to assault her in her own home. He was looking for a way to expunge the sudden flux of emotion, and since she was there it would be easy to use her as an outlet. It just wasn't right, and so he couldn't do it.

"Princess, I don't know how to fix this. I wish I did." He crooned in her ear as he rocked her back and forth soothingly.

"It's not something that can be fixed, Finn." Hermione whispered. "I'm not broken. Not really."

"I know you aren't. However, I don't think you are completely whole either."

"I'm not. I'm not whole, but I'm not in pieces. Bad things happen to good people, that's all. A bad thing happened, now I just have to rise up and move passed it." She explained.

"I can't do that so easily, princess," Thorfinn replied. "You were attacked in our home, how can I protect you when danger lurks everywhere? When it comes into our home, the one place you should be safe?" Hermione nuzzled the part of his neck that met his shoulder. There really wasn't an answer to his question. The truth was he couldn't protect her, not from everything at least. She couldn't say that, of course, because if she did he would feel even more of a failure. That was something she didn't want him to feel at all. He was doing the best he could, she knew that, and she wanted to shield him from feeling inadequate.

"I'm okay, Finn. Nothing happened, it was about to, and it was frightening, but it didn't actually happen." She said instead.

"I'm just frustrated. I hate to admit it, I hate having to be grateful to that bastard or anything, but I'm just happy Lucius got there when he did."

"I know, I share the same feelings. Though, as I said earlier, I don't think that Lucius won't expect some kind of payment in kind. I don't believe for one minute he was upstairs for any good intentions." Hermione commented.

"No, I don't suppose he was." Thorfinn agreed with his witch.

"The question remains of Macnair though." Hermione continued.

"Macnair? Honey, Lucius, good intentions or no, just carted his arse out of here for daring to touch you."

"Think about it Finn. Macnair is not dumb, perhaps not the brightest, but no idiot. Do you really think that he is going to admit to anything, even under torture?"

"What do you mean?" Thorfinn was puzzled by her statement.

"I think, that Macnair will take the blame for the assault, for the action that can be proved as Lucius saw it with his own eyes. Macnair will accept his punishment, a punishment to fit the crime, but then Lucius will have no choice but to let him go. Macnair won't reveal his suspicions, he will keep a hold of the ace up his sleeve until he can actually prove it."

"Which he won't be able to do." Thorfinn was adamant.

"I'm not so sure," Hermione replied, "he tried to drop the glamour Finn. We already knew that he was suspicious and wasn't accepting that I was Blair, but he's moved on from just speculating the fact and actually trying to do something to prove it."

"Fuck!" Thorfinn cursed. "Not good, princess. Not good at all."

"At least we have a couple more people on our team. I think it's important that we get their help with this."

"I agree." He said. "But I'm going to hold you for just a bit longer." Hermione smiled. Sometimes Finn was like a child, trying to hold onto the things he cared about and not sharing well with others. It was one of the things she loved about him, how sweet he was in moments like this. Naturally, she melted into his embrace and relished in the comfort it brought her.

* * *

In the library, five people sat in a stony silence, each wondering what laid ahead. Daphne, felt for Hermione, she had always admired her work while in school. Then the war started, and she was so amazed by the other witch's bravery and determination. Daphne herself literally refused to go to school when she found out that her distant relatives the Carrow siblings would be teaching at Hogwarts that term. She had not cared if she passed her NEWTs or not, she would hardly be the first witch to rely on marriage to provide for her over good grades. It wasn't like she would be able to have a career anyway. She had literally hid from the war.

Pansy was thinking along similar lines. She had gone to school that year, and was horrified at how much Hogwarts had changed. While the other houses banded together, helped each other, rallied to Potter's cause, Slytherin had been left to fend for itself. None of those other houses understood that just because they were from Slytherin themselves that the Carrow's didn't discriminate against who they punished, or who they picked on. Pansy had spent most of her time, caring for the terrified and abused first years and trying to avoid drawing attention to herself. She resented Hermione and her friends then, how they were out there supposedly fighting for the light when they just left their friends and everybody else alone to deal with the shit storm Dumbledore's death had caused.

Theo, was contemplating what he would have done if his father had gotten his hands on Hermione. He had always liked her in school, she was smart and loved books like he did, not that he ever would have admitted it. If his father brought her home and forced him to watch the light drain from her eyes as he used her, he wouldn't have been brave enough to stop it from happening. That bugged him. he had seen what his father did to women, knew that he killed his last two wives, and though he wouldn't want to see Hermione abused and mistreated in that way, he wouldn't have risked his father's fury landing on him. He had been the punching bag of Theodore Nott Sr. one too many times, and his father scared him. Blaise was just overwhelmed. He really didn't know what to do, having been ready to leave Wizarding Britain altogether. He didn't want that, while his roots may be in Italy, he had replanted himself here, made a life and a home for himself here. But he was against the regime and what they were making of it and had been ready to leave, until Hermione's confession moments ago. Draco, waited in the quiet room. Someone was bound to speak up soon, raise a question, or something. He needed a distraction. Between his father's new interest in his friend, as he now thought of Hermione as, and what had happened to her earlier, he was ready to kill.

"Do we stand a chance?" Muttered Theo. "I mean really?"

"I think we do." Draco answered. "I'm not saying it will be easy, but I do believe it is possible."

"What do we need to know then?" Blaise spoke. "I hate what this world has become like, but I'm not one to act without a plan." Before Draco could reply, Pansy snorted.

"Yeah, it's pretty clear that up until now, that's exactly how those two were operating. I could expect that from a Gryffindor, but Salazar, Thor was one of us." The dark haired witch stated.

"True," Draco acknowledged both of them. "We do need a better plan, and I'm sure that we will have one going forward. But think about it, under the circumstances I think Hermione and Thor did a pretty good job. I don't know why Macnair didn't buy it, but Blair had me completely fooled. Macnair approached me and told me he didn't buy her act, and I looked at him like he was nuts but was willing to try and expose the truth when I met her for tea. I threw out every possible trick and trigger I could think of and Hermione didn't even blink. Her acting skills are superb, so I wouldn't say that is the problem."

As Draco finished his little speech, Thorfinn and Hermione reentered the room, having heard what he was saying.

"So let us come up with a plan then." Hermione said. "I really had you fooled huh, Draco?" She teased.

He glowered at her. "You were never supposed to know that." He muttered petulantly. She giggled and went to sit next to Daphne.

"How exactly do you propose we take down a regime from the inside? We are a bunch of newly graduated teenagers. Except you Thor, you are just an oversized man-child." Theo commented and paled when Thorfinn glared at him. Daphne chose that moment to speak up.

"You are right, we are seen as just kids right now, but have you considered that we haven't done much more than act like exactly that? What if we ask to take on some more responsibility?"

"That isn't a half bad idea," Thorfinn acknowledged. "It wouldn't be high ranking positions, but most of your father's were deatheaters, so they hold office alongside Lucius. If you talk to them, they may be able to get you stationed in some official position. Except Daphne and Pansy of course."

Hermione glanced up, annoyed at the fact, Thorfinn was leaving the women out, but noticed that neither Daphne nor Pansy seemed bothered by that. Daphne saw her reaction and smirked. "What Thorfinn means is that as pureblood ladies we gain influence and power through marriage. While the boys here work on gaining tidbits of classified information from the ministry, we hold social events and use gossip, bribery, and blackmail as tools to get people to talk."

"Oh." Hermione said. "I see. Since you are already engaged to Theo, you can use your betrothal to him to gain status. But what of Pansy, is she engaged to anyone yet?"

"No, Not yet." Pansy replied. "I rejected my last two suitors. But there is always someone knocking at my door."

"That's just because your last two suitor's weren't me," Blaise jested at her. He had a crush on Pansy, and merely smirked when she shot a dark look his way.

"Do shut up, Blaise." Pansy retorted.

"This is actually quite clever." Hermione stated. "I never would have thought of it because it seems outdated to me. Essentially if we work together we can take over the social side of things, use society to our advantage. Together we can make our homes, parties and functions the events of the year nobody wants to miss. I may just need you to teach me lessons in blackmail and bribery."

"Oh, I would only be too happy." Pansy replied with a large smirk. The four men shrank back a little from the evil smiles the witch's shared between them. Merlin knew they could be scary sometimes. Though even the wizard had to admit, they had a point.

* * *

Macnair stumbled into the flat he had recently acquired. Until last month, he had been shacking up in one of the room's at Nott manor. However, with the lack of progress he was making on getting the mudblood captured, Theodore Nott was increasingly more annoyed by his presence, and had eventually snapped and kicked him out.

The flat, located in the bowels of Knockturn Alley, was small and filthy, but it was located right above a pub Macnair often frequented. It suited his purposes just fine, despite being a pit. Stumbling in was not an uncommon occurrence, in fact it was a norm. However, tonight it was not the drink causing his lack of balance, instead the aftereffects of the cruciatus curse.

The burley wizard was as enraged as he was hurting. And the target for his rage was none other than the bushy haired brunette that he knew was disguised as the tall, lanky, black haired, beauty living with Rowle. It was her fault he was in pain.

He had spent the last 24 hours holed up in Malfoy's dungeons, being tortured and questioned. He at first refused to accept blame for his actions, throwing insults and remarks toward Lucius for even caring. He recalled actually spitting at the minister of magic before saying, "why would you care if I get the girl to suck me off, it's not like she is yours, is she? If anything it should be Rowle here." It only seemed to infuriate the blonde more.

That was a curious thing, Macnair thought suddenly. Lucius didn't make habit of torturing his comrades for getting laid, or forcing themselves on witches. In fact, he couldn't count the number of times he and many others had been clapped on the back for those same actions. However, the wizard did protect those he thought of as his, no man had ever dared touch Narcissa in any way that was unwanted, and everybody knew to stay away from the man's mistresses. If Lucius was all bent out of shape over the attack on Blair, then he must have some claim to her. The bitch was a clever little bird, he'd give her that. First Rowle, and now Malfoy, she would do anything to elude him.

Macnair smiled grimly. She was smart, but not smart enough, Lucius wouldn't be able to protect her. At least not when he had proof that she wasn't who she was pretending to be, which he would, very soon. He figured he knew Lucius a little better than this bitch did. After years of working alongside, or under, him and before that attending the same school with the wizard showed Macnair that there was nothing Lucius Malfoy despised more than mudbloods. More than that, he hated the swotty little mudblood who had proved to be better than his son at almost everything. When Macnair revealed the truth, Lucius would not be so kind to the bird, he would of course give her to Macnair as a reward, but he would be revolted that he had slept with her and he wouldn't ever lift a finger to help her.

At the current moment, though, Macnair was out of favor, had been tortured endlessly until he accepted the blame for using an unforgivable and attempting to rape the little bitch, and after just because. The bitch was going to suffer so badly when he got ahold of her. At the very least she was going to endure exactly what he had through the little game they were playing, and that was before he even attempted to break her. She would beg for death before he was through with her and then he wouldn't even give her that, he would use her body as his personal temple, whenever and however he wished. On that note, Macnair made it to his bed and fell onto the mattress heavily, intent on sleeping away the pain so he could behind her perusal of the bitch in earnest once more. When sleep overcame him he dreamed of her.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: A bout of writer's block makes this update a little shorter. Hope you all enjoy and as always, thank you for your support.**

* * *

She had slept with Finn of course, curled into his side like a little kitten snuggling up for warmth and love. In Hermione's case she was seeking Finn's presence for comfort and reassurance. They had stayed up late with the others, planning strategy for their coup, and so, exhausted, she had fallen into bed beside her wizard and slept, a mercifully dreamless sleep.

However, she woke earlier than she would have liked, and the events of the last day came flooding in, waking her mind to the point where she wouldn't be able to fall back into slumber. She still had not really processed what had happened to her in the room with Macnair, or what had been about to happen to her at least. She told Finn the details he needed to know, but the rest she didn't want to share. She didn't even want to think about it herself. It had been terrifying, traumatic and disgusting, and while nothing had happened, the feeling of not being able to fight it if it had was overwhelmingly horrific. She never wanted to feel that weak again.

Finn's chest rose and fell as he breathed deeply beside her. His quiet snuffles here and there alerted her to the fact that he was still asleep. Hermione wouldn't call it snoring, not really. It was louder than simple breathing yes, but after sharing a tent with Harry and Ron, the sounds Thorfinn made didn't come close to snoring. Ron had a tendency to wheeze loudly before letting out a thunderous roar, whereas Harry actually snorted in his sleep. Thorfinn was so much easier to sleep next to than those two, and she really thought the sounds were actually rather cute.

Not wanting to disturb him with her restlessness, Hermione left the bedroom, they had stayed in her room that night, and headed for the shower. Her clothes were still in Finn's closet down the hall, but Hermione couldn't bring herself to go back in there yet, especially not alone.

"Moppy," the witch whispered quietly. The elf appeared a moment later. "Would you, please, go and get me something comfortable to wear from the closet please?" She requested. Moppy didn't respond, not needing to, and just vanished. Seeming to know exactly what her young mistress needed, Moppy returned carrying a bundle of clothing. It was a pair of denim jeans, and a cozy, knitted, cream sweater. A pair of black booties sat atop the small pile. Hermione smiled her gratitude at the elf and turned on the taps to run herself a bath.

After the last time she felt unclean, she wasn't repeating the shower fiasco. In fact, she wasn't even taking a bath to get clean, but to relax. She needed to contemplate everything that had happened and deal with it on an individual and personal level. She couldn't be distracted by Thorfinn's rage, Pansy and Daphne's sympathy, or anything. She needed to deal with this alone.

Once the tub was filled she closed the door, warded it and put silencing charms around the room so she wouldn't wake Thorfinn. Hermione stepped into the soothing, hot water and breathed in the aroma of cherry blossom. She cleared her mind of everything other than the events of yesterday.

Macnair had thrown her through the ringer. The man wasn't giving up, and despite others thinking he may be out of the picture Hermione knew it wasn't over. He was smart enough to talk his way out of what he attempted with her yesterday, so he would be there to try again in the future. Hermione never wanted to find herself in a position where he could use the imperious curse on her again. The feeling of mindlessness, of not caring about what was going on, or what she did and being at the complete mercy and control of someone else was not appealing. He had ordered her to give him a blow job. It was disgusting, and twisted, but even Hermione knew it wasn't what the monster really wanted. He wanted to use the unforgivable to get her to confess she wasn't Blair, and how to drop the glamour. She was in deep trouble, because if and when Macnair got her cornered again, he wouldn't hesitate to learn the truth. The question was how to deal with Macnair? She wasn't violent, she hated hurting others, and she tried to take the moral path. However, Hermione knew her answer. As she sunk into the warm water of her bath she decided that she was going to have to kill Macnair.

There was no other option. He was too much of a foe, perhaps not the most powerful magically speaking, but he was dangerous in the way that he wouldn't stop trying. Once he set his mind to something nothing would stop him, not morals, not great disguises, not allies, least of all prison. The only way Hermione could ensure her safety was to kill him, watch him die, and burn the body.

She sighed when the realization hit her, and sunk low into the water. Killing was an extreme she wished she didn't have to take, however with no other alternative, she would. She had fought for her life and those of her friends in battle, she had seen death first hand, had even been responsible for some of it. war meant doing things one would rather not. And it was obviously clear to her now, that whatever this thing with Macnair was, it was war.

A knock sounded on the closed door and Hermione pulled herself from under the surface of the bath water. It sounded again right as a voice called out.

"Hermione, you okay?" Thorfinn practically shouted through the door. He couldn't hear anything from the bathroom, and knew she must have cast a silencing charm. He didn't know why and he had woken up to find her missing from the bed and felt a sudden worry. Until he saw the closed door to the attached bathroom. He had fallen asleep with the door open last night.

Hermione dropped the silencing charm to respond to her worried, boyfriend. Was boyfriend the right word? With the complexity of their situation she hadn't really stopped to think what their growing affections for the other meant. They were pretending to be engaged, and such, but when it was them, just them, they hadn't discussed what these feelings meant. She knew she loved him, and he said he loved her back. It was clear they had an established relationship, but what to call that was the conundrum.

"I'm fine, Finn," She responded. "You can come in." A moment later the door opened and he walked in and kneeled by the tub. She leaned up and kissed him.

"Hi." He said.

"Hi," she replied with a smile.

They kissed again, and then Hermione explained that she was going to get dressed. He smirked but she playfully shoved him, and he exited the room, reassured that his witch was indeed okay, to get dressed himself.

* * *

Later that morning, Pansy and Daphne arrived. They were determined to give Hermione a crash course in the basics of blackmail and bribery. They settled themselves into the library, tea tray and crumpets on hand, and left Thorfinn to do whatever he had on his daily agenda. Hermione tried not to think about what that might be.

"First things first," began Pansy, "is the key principle of blackmail." Hermione opened her mouth to ask a question but was met with raised eyebrows and a pointed gaze. "Which is, don't get caught." The dark haired witch finished.

"Don't get caught." Hermione repeated.

"Tell me Hermione, do you consider yourself a good liar?" Pansy questioned. Hermione thought about it. The past several months had been spent in a disguise that most people had bought. She was the living breathing persona of a witch that did not exist to the outside world and was pulling off the act expertly. She was, in short, living an elaborate lie.

"Yes, I do." Hermione replied completely sure about her answer.

"Excellent. Because that is half the battle." Pansy retorted. "Blackmail that is owled, or otherwise apparent, has a tie back to the blackmailer. The art is blackmailing without revealing that is what you are doing, which is where lying comes in."

"Yes," Daphne pitched in, "Say I had information you wanted, and you happened to know I was having an affair. A fool would come out with that and tip their hand revealing the cards they had to play. How would you handle that instead?"

"I would twist it." Hermione responded instantly. "I would begin a conversation with the subject in which, without coming right out and saying that I know they were cheating, elude to the fact so that they would know I know. Of course I would also make sure to not reveal how I knew.'

"Good," Pansy sated. "How?"

"Well first I would make it clear what information I was trying to get out of them. It wouldn't do to start with blackmail, because the person may be in a mood or state where they might reveal the truth without it. If not, then to use the affair example, I would make small talk and drop mention of their Lover's name in some small, seemingly innocent way. Like a reference to a party their wife hosted, one where you know the affair started, and then smile and say something like wouldn't it be so fun if they hosted a party again."

"Very good. It would be unmistakable that you obviously knew the subject was having an affair and with whom, without revealing how you knew or what proof you had. It would put them in a tight spot where they could either reveal the information you wanted, or they could risk you exposing the affair when they least expected it."

"How were you not in Slytherin?" Daphne asked, smiling widely at Hermione's response.

"Actually, It was one of the three houses the sorting hat wanted to place me in." Hermione replied automatically.

"I had forgotten you were a hat stall." Pansy replied. "Why did it choose against Slytherin?"

"Obvious reasons, I should think." Hermione said. That quieted everyone in the room, the unspoken word mudblood hanging heavily in the air, before the conversation turned back to the matter at hand.

"Anyways, the next component is talking yourself out of the situation if you were for some reason confronted." Pansy stated.

"As in, if somebody would ask or accuse me of blackmailing them?"

"Precisely. In that case, a simple no wouldn't suffice." Pansy said.

"You wouldn't want to back down entirely, as you would essentially be being tested on how well you hold your own as well as being confronted with a problem. Saying no would blow the whole thing wide open. A clever blackmailer wouldn't confirm or deny what they were doing." Daphne offered.

"I see." Hermione said. "In that case I would say something along the lines of not needing to resort to such tactics, despite that being exactly what I was doing. I would make it seem as though blackmail was beneath me and still let them know I had the capability of doing it should I need to. Then I would walk away and let it stew. If they think I was blackmailing them I wouldn't get answers right away, but if I went about the rest of the event without mentioning anything to them, then they would wonder what methods I would resort to."

"I can see why the hat wanted to place in in Slytherin," Pansy praised. "You think just like one of us. I don't see why you thought you needed lessons on this stuff, you are brilliant."

Daphne, looked at her friend in shock, Pansy never praised, and yet she just did. But even she had to agree, Hermione was a natural at this stuff, however, most likely never had the occasion to use them.

The group collectively decided to save lessons in bribery for another day, and just enjoy their tea, sandwiches, and each other's company a while. They were quickly becoming fast friends, they thought alike, got along great, and were slowly putting the past behind them, united in their mission to overthrow the regime. Nobody ever said they couldn't have fun while doing it.


	21. Chapter 21

"So, you and Thorfinn seem pretty close." Daphne prompted out of the blue at the trio of girls sipped on their warm tea. Thorfinn has just left the library after checking in on how it was going. He drew Hermione away for a moment and spoke to her in hushed tones, which neither Pansy nor Daphne could overhear. Then he kissed her softly and disappeared once more.

Hermione sighed. "Yes, I suppose so." She replied, not necessarily liking the direction this conversation was going.

"So…." The fair haired witch coaxed in a tone as sweet as honey. Inwardly, Hermione groaned. She didn't want to delve into the personal dynamics of her and Finn's relationship. It was bad enough that they barely knew where this was going, they at least knew there was something there rather or not they had words to explain it. To put it in words to these two would be complicated.

"So what?" Hermione asked laying dumb. It didn't work because both her companions directed glares at her. "Oh fine, It's complicated alright? I don't know how to explain Finn and I to other people."

"Oh we can fix that." Interjected Pansy with a grin, "We'll ask the questions." Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled her accent just as well.

"Do you love him?" Daphne asked, starting the interrogation off right away.

"Yes. I do." Hermione replied automatically, there was no hesitation.

"Didn't you two fight a lot back in first year?" Pansy inquired. "I recall many the occasion where he was taunting you."

"True, we did. It is a long story actually. Back in October of our first year I almost got Finn expelled." Hermione left them hanging not revealing more of the story, knowing full well they would only ask more questions.

"What?" Spluttered Pansy who had just taken a sip of tea at Hermione's revelation.

"How?" Daphne cried out a moment later.

"I caught him mid fellatio in the stacks in the library and being me, I told on him." She confessed with a smirk. Her two friends burst out in a fit of giggles.

"So, that is why he taunted you for the rest of the year then?" Daphne asked. When she was able to speak again.

"Not, exactly." Hermione said vaguely. Pansy of course wasn't letting that slide.

"Okay, so why exactly did Thor go out of his way to tease you in first year?" The dark haired witch demanded.

"I kind of, sort of, may have had a habit of interrupting his sexual endeavors throughout the year, he had a knack for exhibitionism I think. To his misfortune he usually happened to pick the bad timing of starting stuff when I was in the same general vicinity. And let's just say that, well, I let him know it too." Hermione revealed the true circumstance between the start of her history with Finn.

"Oh Merlin!" Exclaimed Daphne and once again all three succumbed to peals of heart laughter. "Poor Thor. No wonder he was such a terror to us all that year. Bloke couldn't get any."

"I don't think I'm ever going to let him liv this down now, he is so getting teased mercilessly for this. Payback for being brooding prat all of our first year. It does, however explain why he had it out for you." Pansy added.

"It does, doesn't it?" Hermione agreed. "It also explains why he made it his personal ambition to target me in the war." Instantly the mood turned somber. They were instantly reminded of the war, of their losses and of what they were fighting for now.

"A complicated history." Daphne mentioned. "Thor always was able to hold a grudge, and Slytherin to the core he paid people back each and every time. It's amazing that given your beginning that you are close now."

"I was amazed. When he first showed up in the muggle world where I went to school, I was sure that it was to either kill me or make my life miserable. I couldn't believe him when he said it was to save me, and I quite literally ran away from him."

"But he didn't want to hurt you?" Daphne asked.

"Obviously not. He brought me here, and it wasn't all sunshine and daisies at first, I'll tell you that. In fact, we mostly fought and bickered over our past, and avoided one another. But something about being stuck in the same house with each other drew us closer. We still have a lot to work out, we realize this, but we both have feelings for the other. For now, we've agreed to focus on changing the world, then we can work on our past." Hermione explained to them.

"Wow." The two witches said in unison.

"We have had many laughs over the events of his last year in school. It's humorous really, how much he despised me to now loathing being more than a couple of rooms away. And I never thought the day would come where breathing in Thorfinn's scent as I was wrapped in his arms would calm me. Now it's the most soothing smell, his woodsy aroma with a hint of spice."

"Well, I for one," Pansy began, "am really happy that you make Thor happy. Merlin knows he's had a rough hand in life, with losing his parents right after school, and having to join the dark lord or face death. He didn't have any support to keep him safe. It was pretty much join or die."

Hermione had not known that. In fact, she had assumed that he had joined willingly because he believed in the cause, and had treated him as though he had. It was a rude awakening for her to realize that she had unjustly judged him without knowing the circumstances. She must have betrayed her thoughts on her face.

"Granted of course," Daphne added, "Thorfinn was raised to believe the hierarchy of blood purity as we all were, and more than likely would have felt compelled to join the dark lords' cause, as we all did."

"I wasn't aware his choice was inevitable. It doesn't really matter if he would have chosen this path on his own or not, I mean either way we would have been on opposing sides, it angers me that Voldemort used threats and fear to influence his followers. It's practically no better than slavery to force an army to serve him." Hermione replied.

"Yeah," Pansy said. "That is a fairly good analogy. An army of slaves describes the deatheaters well, serving the cause out of both a lifetime of pureblood ideology and the fear of retaliation for standing against a monster."

"Do you think that you will marry Thor?" Daphne asked, changing the tense conversation to a more upbeat note.

"I don't know." Hermione replied honestly. "I know the engagement is the cover for explaining my sudden arrival, and it's true that we have feelings for each other, but as I've said we have a lot to deal with. Right now we agreed to set aside the history between us for a common goal, I'm not sure that when this house of cards falls that we will be able to move passed everything."

"I always thought you would marry the Weasel." Pansy said.

"I did too." Daphne agreed. "But I actually hope that you and Finn end up together. It's apparent that he cares very much for you, more than I've ever seen him care for anyone, and I've known him for years."

Hermione smiled at that, thinking to herself that Finn was her happily ever after, and she knew that, but not wanting to admit it out loud because she wasn't sure what the future had in store. Instead, she sipped her tea quietly.

* * *

Thorfinn wished he was with his witch. Unfortunately, his day was full of things that would take him away from her. The types of things better left unsaid. He was holed up in his office at the ministry with a mountain of paperwork, as it was time for the quarterly reports on the reeducation program. Every former rebel agent captured and assigned to a lord or official had a file, and they were all currently piled on the metal desk in Thorfinn's small office.

Thorfinn had popped into the library during the morning tea session Hermione had with Parkinson and his distant cousin Daphne Greengrass. He forgot exactly how he was related to Daphne, a cousin twice removed perhaps, on his mother's side. However, she had a shade of hair similar to his own golden locks, and while her eyes were green, shared similar facial structure to him so it was visual evidence that there were somehow related. Not that it was important. Thorfinn had pulled his witch to the side to tell her that he wouldn't be back until late because he regrettably had to go into the office. He wanted her to spend as much time that day with her female companions as was possible, but that if something should happen to owl for Draco to come over until he returned home.

Hermione informed him that he was being a worrywart, but he disagreed. After what had happened at the party, and the way evens were unfolding, he had every reason to be worried and if he couldn't be there to protect her he would bloody damn well have something in place for her safety.

Luckily for him, Draco couldn't agree further. The younger blond had gone so far as to enchant his owl so it couldn't be intercepted, as well as make sure he was available all day. Thorfinn hoped that Hermione would need to use her failsafe, but he didn't trust these people as far as he could throw them. And there was a meeting of the Lord's tonight. So he wouldn't be home until much later.

He sighed as he set to work on his files. It was going to be a long day.

It was. He vanished the files back to the filing department and locked the door to his office before he walked up to the executive floor where the Lord's meeting was being held.

Thorfinn sat in his usual spot between Rabastan and Antonin and chatted with them awhile before Lucius arrived. Upon seeing the minister Thorfinn's mood soured. The wizard wanted his witch and Thorfinn was irate with the knowledge that the platinum blond wizard would dare to try and get Hermione, well Blair, into his clutches. It annoyed him for several reasons. First of all, it was a manly pride thing, Hermione was his. Secondly, it was an insult to their comradeship, Lucius was willing to fuck him over to take his witch. Lastly, Lucius was not a good man and overly happy to abuse his power and now Hermione was in his debt. He didn't doubt the arrogant prig would come collecting.

"Welcome Lords," Lucius drawled out. A round robin of greetings echoed throughout the room. "This month's business is regarding the increased measures we are taking to ensure the safety of our civilians. I am unimpressed with some of the recent behavior of our fellow lords to the witches in our circles." Lucius cut off to direct a glare at Macnair. One that was matched by Thorfinn, Rabastan, Antonin and Muliciber and Yaxley. The two latter may not have been personally acquainted with Blair, but both had either sisters or daughters and felt strongly about violations against witches. Macnair ignored all of the angry stares and actually sat up straighter in his chair, holding his head high. He wouldn't show guilt or shame for anything, and his defiance pissed of Thorfinn all the more.

"I propose," Rabastan suggested, "that any wizard who harms a witch belonging to a respectable circle and not a criminal, should be subject to the cruciatus curse." Of course, Rabastan knew that Macnair had suffered this very curse and mentioned it purposefully.

"The first time, I agree. Repeat offenders should be remanded into the custody of the reeducation program." Yaxley countered.

"All in favor?" Lucius asked, and all but two hands raised. "Passed." The minister decreed. "The next order of business is the apprehension of known rebel agents and the measures being taken to capture them. For instance, why hasn't Hermione Granger been captured yet?"

At this Macnair met Thorfinn's gaze a malicious grin curving the corners of his mouth. Thorfinn didn't know why the topic had been raised, or what Macnair had revealed while in custody, but the sudden rush of terror that ran through his veins was enough to turn anybody's blood to ice.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: First of all please let me apologize for not posting last week's update. I was pretty busy and did not get as much time to write as I would have liked and by the end of the week just decided to hold of and give myself a breather. Thanks to all of you for your support and your patience. please enjoy this weeks update.**

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Thorfinn stormed back into to Rowle mansion after the lords meeting. It had gone from bad to worse, and it was clear that Macnair not only wasn't giving up, but also had something on Thorfinn. After the meeting Lucius cornered him to invite him and Blair over for drinks that evening. Thorfinn barely managed to get out of it by claiming that Blair was under the weather. Lucius accepted this but clearly interpreted the meaning to be that Blair was still upset with what had occurred at the engagement party. This, naturally, only reminded the minister that Thorfinn and Blair were in his debt. It had been a really, terrible day. All he wanted was to hold his witch and pour himself a stiff drink.

"Finn?" the witch in question called out loudly from upstairs upon hearing the banging and clomping around when he entered the home. She had been in the library, of course, reading after she sent the girls away after tea was finished. The remainder of day had been quiet for her, nothing really interesting or bothersome happened, and aside from arguing with Moppy over where to eat dinner, and losing, she had remained holed up in her favorite room in the estate.

She heard his pounding footsteps on the stairs, familiar to her know, and she smiled. Her smile faded when she took in his wild appearance and furious gaze.

"Princess." He greeted gruffly, a soft smile turning at the corner to his mouth when he took in that she was okay. "Come here." Hermione rushed to him and found herself scooped up in his arms. She embraced her wizard tightly and breathed in his comforting scent as she nuzzled his neck.

"What's wrong Finn?"

Thorfinn wasn't sure he wanted to tell her. He didn't want to worry her, but he knew something as monumental as this new development would be wrong to hide from her. He let out a frustrated sigh and pulled her closer to her before striding to a chair and positioning her on his lap.

"Moppy." He called out and a moment later the aging elf appeared before them. "Bring me a tumbler of whiskey and a glass of Riesling for Hermione," he instructed. Moppy popped off, and Thorfinn sighed again. "If I tell you, you are going to want the drink." He explained.

"That bad?"

"Worse." Moppy returned as Thorfinn stated his opinion carrying a tray with drinks. "We discussed the increased standard in the man-hunt for rebels, none-more-so than the elusive Hermione Granger." He began. Terror seized Hermione.

"Macnair had something to do with this?"

"I assume he did. I think that he has more planned, but is toying with us, waiting until we feel safe before he pounces."

"He was stalking me Finn. Believe me, I know how he operates. He sent me letters and pictures of me for months before you showed up, he likes his little games," Hermione reasoned.

"This is beyond stalking. He has something on me, or on you, that will be the proof of our subterfuge. He is just waiting until the perfect moment to play his hand for the take all."

"I'm sure," she replied. "Then we just never let our guard down and we find a way to end his medaling." Of course, Hermione knew that this meant killing him. However, she wasn't relaying that bit to Thorfinn.

"It's been a shit day." Thorfinn mumbled.

"I can see that. I missed you today." She said deciding that her wizard needed some cheering up. He quirked a grin.

"You hardly spared me a glance when I when I told you I had to go earlier. Are you sure you missed me?"

"I did miss you, I was distracted by company earlier Finn." Hermione chose that moment to shift on his lap so she could press her lips to his. Thorfinn immediately deepened the kiss and was soon slipping his tongue between her lips to tangle with hers. She shifted on his lap so that she was straddling him and wrapped her arms around his neck, grinding her hips into his. He groaned at the contact and broke the kiss to look pointedly at her.

"Princess," he growled his warning. "Don't start something you are not ready to finish." Hermione sobered, and looked at him placidly. Surely, he didn't mean that to sound so… condescending. He was scolding her as though she was a child. Now, angry Hermione got off him, rising to stand and left the room in a tizzy.

Thorfinn sighed deeply, running his hand across his face and rubbing his eyes. _Witches… fucking perfect, could this day get any worse?_ Thorfinn thought to himself as he jumped up from his seat to follow Hermione. He was just in time to have the door to his bedroom shut and locked in his face.

No knowing what else to do, as he wasn't going to be reduced to knocking on his own door, Thorfinn pulled out his wand.

"Alohomora," he recited and heard the lock click back. Swinging the door open with an exaggerated bang, he strode into the bedroom he shared with his witch to see her making a mess of the bed by throwing pillows and blankets in her rage. It would be comical, he thought. Would be funny if it were because of anybody else, and not directed at him.

Repressing a grin of amusement, he came up behind Hermione and pulled her away from the window before she could take out her rage on the curtains to. He lifted her into his arms, and was immediately greeted by her fists beating on his shoulders. It hurt to, little witch packed a mean punch.

Adjusting his hold on her so that he could secure her with one arm, Thorfinn lifted his free hand and took hold of her wrists tightly.

"Calm down, would you dammit." He hissed at her.

"Bastard." She spat her retort.

"I assure you my dear, my parents were very much married." He replied as he carried her to the bed and sat down with her still in his arms. "Fuck, princess, what is this?"

"What is this? This is me being pissed at you." She answered.

"Over what? Bloody fucking hell." He cursed.

"Are you fucking dense? Never mind don't answer that I already know. I'm pissed because you are treating me like I'm fucking broken, Thorfinn Rowle!" It had been some time since she had used his full name, and he vaguely recalled telling her at one point that when she did he felt like he was in trouble. Apparently, she had taken the remark to heart.

He didn't know how to react. So, he sighed. "I'm sorry, truly Princess. I just need you to be okay."

"I am okay!" Hermione exclaimed.

"But I don't know that for sure," he reasoned. "So forgive me for not wanting to take things beyond snogging you at the moment. Fucking hell, you were nearly raped in our house, Hermione. I know you say you're fine but I don't want to be the one responsible for hurting you if you really aren't."

Hermione stilled, having been struggling on his lap this whole time, at his words. She pulled back slightly and looked up at his face, her expression changing to one of puzzlement.

"You are really that worried about me?" She asked finally all illusion of anger fading.

"Of course, I was worried, dammit. I love you."

Now, Hermione smiled at him, and it just added to the confusion he was feeling. Witches were so temperamental, changing moods faster then the wind changed directions.

"I really am okay, Finn." She said eventually. "You would be the first to know if I wasn't."

"I hope so. I just don't want to push you too far? I don't want another shower incident…" The shower incident was something neither wanted to repeat.

"I know. But if I say that I want you, then just leave it at that, kay?"

"Fine." He agreed begrudgingly. Hermione smiled at him again and the leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"Do you want to start where we left off?"

He groaned, at her arousing tone, feeling his body stir.

"I would but someone seems to have made a terrible mess of our bed, and there are feathers everywhere." He replied teasing her. She growled lowly, and used a nonverbal to fix her mess.

"And Now?" she asked.

"Now I've got no objections." Finn laid her down against the now fluffed pillows before pinning her beneath his body and kissing her. It didn't take long for them to find the mood again, and both pursued it with passion.

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Much later, in the hours between midnight and dawn, Hermione awoke. Beside her, Thorfinn slept peacefully, legs strewn over hers, arms wrapped about her waist. She smiled contently before she squirmed out of his embrace with a reluctant sigh. She moved to stand by the window, a thought occurring to her. It was the first time she and Finn had coupled with her glamour intact. He likely didn't feel comfortable dropping it, and she had to agree. It was too dangerous to openly flaunt her existence. She opened the door to the balcony and crossed the threshold standing in the cool summer air.

In the distance thunder sounded and the skies released their havoc. The rain didn't bother, Hermione it never had, so she continued to stand outside. While her wizard slept inside, safely tucked into his bed, she stood against the metal rail soaked to the bone contemplating how exactly she was going to end Macnair.

It was not something she was proud to admit, but she sort of relished the idea of him suffering. He had caused so many too much pain not to mention the threats he openly goaded her with. He had no remorse in him, and he would continue to be a menace to society in any world order…

Really, she would be doing the world a favor, why couldn't she have a little fun in so doing? She reminded herself that killing was a last resort, that she was one of the good guys, and that the heroes didn't torture just because they could. She would make his death swift and fast, he wouldn't see it coming, and it would be more than he deserved. A quick and painless avada, if she was already taking the law into her own hands she might as well go all in, she mused bitterly.

Lost in her thoughts as she was, she didn't hear Thorfinn come up behind her, and was wrapped in his arms before she could blink.

"Your freezing, princess," Thorfinn's tired and concerned voice commented as he rubbed her shoulder. "Come on."

Hermione followed him, and allowed him to take the nightgown from her body and wrap her in a blanket.

"What has you so worried?" He asked.

"Nothing," Hermione lied. He saw through it of course, so she quickly added. "Nothing I want to share right now, no need for you to worry."

"Princess," he sighed heavily, "I just found you standing on the balcony in your white nighty, in the middle of the night and a thunderstorm to boot. Merlin only knows how long you were standing out there, do not insult my intelligence by telling me you are fine."

"I'm not fine." Hermione confessed. "I'm not but it's nothing you can fix, its nothing that affects my feelings for you. I'm just losing my identity, the part of me that makes me, well me. I look in the mirror and I don't even see Hermione Granger anymore." It was the truth; Hermione Granger never would have had to give herself a pep talk and why it was wrong to kill. Hermione Granger, wouldn't consider using one enemy for the sake of avoiding another. Hermione Granger, wouldn't forsake her bravery and loyalty to hide and manipulate. She didn't know who she was anymore. "The thing that scares me Finn, is that I like this new version of myself."

"I like this version of you to." He replied, "but your wrong, I look at you and I still see the little swot who nearly got me expelled. I just care about her a whole lot more than I did before." Secured in blankets Thorfinn scooped Hermione onto his lap again and just held her, not pushing her to say anything else. They sat like that until dawn.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Here it is Chapter 23. thank you to all of my readers.**

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"I think we need to discuss the wedding," stated Pansy as she, Hermione and Daphne were out shopping one weekend following their most recent tea date. Hermione groaned outwardly at the suggestion.

"No, no, hear me out," Pansy insisted seriously, full prepared to resort to blackmail if necessary. Hermione knew it to.

"Fine," Hermione hissed between clenched teeth.

"With the way things are going, there needs to be a real wedding. Let's assess the situation thus far, shall we? One, Macnair is planning something and not letting go of his suspicion. Two, Minister Malfoy thinks he has some right to make you his mistress. He is not only lording the fact he saved your arse over your head, but is also hell-bent on getting you into his bed. And three, Thorfinn is clearly besotted with you."

"And pray tell, just how will a wedding fix any of that?" Hermione bit out.

"Well," began Pansy, "A bonding ceremony would bind you to Thor irrefutably, so that whatever Macnair has planned, well, it won't wind you up in his custody if shit falls apart. The wedding would also provide you with an excuse to steer yourself away from Lucius, because of your duties to your husband."

Hermione sighed, but had to admit that Pansy had a point. She didn't think that a wedding would deter Lucius from attempting to sleep with her, however she would have the fallback that she had to spend more time with Finn or that Finn wouldn't let her go out, or anything to weasel her way out of a tight spot. She liked that idea because the last thing she wanted was to be anywhere near Lucius in a sexual manner. Then the Macnair thing, she knew what would happen if she was discovered.

Hermione Granger was a known rebel, and when caught, because the majority of the new government did not know she was right under their noses, was to be remanded into the reeducation program the minister set up. They had already assigned her to Macnair, and Macnair wanted to be the one to break her. If she was caught in her glamour, Finn would be killed for treason, and she would be sent to Macnair's custody. She didn't see how a wedding would change that. She expressed as much to Pansy.

"Don't you see," Daphne decided to explain before Pansy could. "Hermione, the new wizarding laws are different for married witches, none of the captured rebel witches were remanded into the reeducation program if they are married. I'm not saying that to make it seem like you don't have to do your best to avoid being found out. It still won't be good if you are, but the failsafe is that you legally cannot be handed over to Macnair or any other Lord if you are already married. You would be placed into House arrest or something."

"None of the married witches were placed in the reeducation program?"

"Nope none." Pansy answered as she flicked through a rack of dresses Hermione wondered how they knew they wouldn't change the law to make an exception for her. "And before you overthink it, Molly Weasley was caught on the battlefield, she was placed on house arrest and currently resides in a small cottage on the Malfoy estate, wandless but otherwise free from abuse, torture, servitude and everything. The minister set the law in stone with no exceptions to be made… oooh this one." Hermione was amazed that the witch could hold a serious conversation and still be engrossed in shopping. She didn't even glance at the dress Pansy held up to her.

"Yeah, that one is nice," Daphne agreed for her and Pansy levitated it over to the growing pile on the counter. The two witches had insisted that Hermione get some clothes, they explained that shopping with Narcissa was not an answer. They agreed that while the elder witch would ensure Hermione had traditional British robes, that they would not be the most fashionable for her age. Honestly Hermione was inclined to share the opinion. She had not yet worn any of the robes she had picked out with Narcissa, preferring instead the American fashioned clothes Finn had selected for her, and they paled in comparison to the selections of Pansy and Daphne.

"Finn may have to be convinced," Hermione said getting back to the subject at hand. Both her companions rolled their eyes.

"Puh-lease!" Pansy exclaimed. "Thor adores you and everybody who's anybody knows it. One word from you, and he'll be down on one knee for real. The wedding may be for show, but as far as he and you are concerned, it will be real." Hermione only sighed in frustration.

"Point aside," Daphne mediated, "why don't we pay for our purchases here, and discuss some plans for said wedding over lunch."

"Fine," Pansy and Hermione agreed.

"Charge this to the Rowle family vault please," instructed Pansy to the sales clerk regarding Hermione's pile.

"On whose authority?" the reluctant and surely clerk asked.

"Excuse me?" Pansy responded indignantly, "This is Lord Rowle's affianced, and he has given her full access to his vault. If you question my word, you may owl him, but I am just very offended that you would feel it necessary and considering the amount of money I spend in this shop… I may have to consider rethinking shopping here."

"Oh, I'm very sorry Ms. Parkinson, Miss…" the Clerk looked at Hermione.

"Miss Blair nightshade." Pansy interjected.

"My apologies Miss. Nightshade. It won't be necessary for me to owl Lord Rowle, I will just wrap these up for you. Should I have them delivered to the Rowle residence?"

"Yes, please." Hermione replied, gaping at Pansy.

When they had finished, Pansy whispered to her, "threats are equally effective when you need something."

"Was that necessary? I could have paid for my own belongings."

"Yes, it was. You need to make more of a show of flaunting your engagement and your status. People need to know who you are and know not to question you. People are afraid of Rowle because he was a deatheater and because he is a lord, they fear retaliation. Use that to your advantage and stop acting like a bleeding heart Gryffindor, act like any socialite engaged to a lord would."

Hermione was about to reply rudely, but Daphne elaborated Pansy's point. "What Pansy means Blair," the blonde witch made sure to emphasize her alias as they were in public, "is that people expect Thorfinn's fiancé to act in a certain way. They have assumptions on the type of personality that witch would have, and right now you are not living up to it. If you don't want people to become suspicious then you must try harder to display a certain level of bitchiness."

They were gaining up on her. Hermione sighed, knowing they were right. What point did a disguise and a backstory have if she continued to value the same things Hermione Granger would. She needed to remind herself to channel her inner Blair. She had already lost so much of herself, that she was clinging to what was left with every fiber of her being, but doing so would not aide her on her quest to hide in plain sight.

They discussed the issue further as they ate their lunch in a popular restaurant in Diagon Alley. Hermione now realized that any wedding she had with Finn, real or fake, would be planned out to a T. It would not be a small or intimate affair, but a grand society wedding. Hermione wrinkled her nose at the idea of a large wedding, but didn't argue the point. The reality was that in whatever world they lived, Finn was a public figure, the head of one of the sacred twenty-eight families. His wedding had to be extensive, and their life would never really be completely private.

That did not mean however, that Hermione had to make it into the wedding of the decade. "No," she began when Pansy began discussing the idea of an ice sculpture of them. "There will be no ice sculptures, no water fountains and no parades. I know it has to be a large wedding, but it will be as simple as such a ceremony can be. Is that clear?"

"Yes," the dark-haired witch replied with a sigh.

"What about a candle ceremony," chimed Daphne. Hermione looked at her eyebrows raised in question, waiting for further explanation. Pansy clapped her hands at the recommendation, already knowing what it was.

"I don't know if this would be a custom in America," Pansy quickly substituted the word American for muggle when a waiter approached with more mimosa, "but here a candlelit ceremony would entail each guest receiving a candle. It would be a night ceremony, in like a garden or something, lit by lanterns. You would walk down the aisle, exchange vows with Thor, and then as you kissed, the candles would ignite. When you both made your way back down the path as husband and wife, each guest would levitate their candle to float overhead, illuminating your path, and symbolically your life together. Oh, it's perfect, I can just picture it," Pansy squealed her delight.

Hermione actually really liked the idea. She had always liked the muggle tradition of lighting a candle and attaching it to a little basket and releasing it with a balloon into the air, in symbolism of something. It sounded like a beautiful way to celebrate her future happiness with Finn. "Actually, yes we do have that tradition in America. I agree, it's a wonderful idea. Thank you Daphne."

The blonde witch smiled. "You are welcome Hermione. I'm just glad we can all agree on something."

"Well, I think that, it's enough planning for now," Hermione sated. "After all," she added with a whisper. "We have to get Finn to agree."

* * *

Later, Hermione embellished the discussion she had with the girls to Finn. He gave her a tightlipped expression which was unreadable. She wondered what he was thinking, was he happy, upset, scared, confused? She couldn't tell.

"Finn?" She asked.

"Hmmm?" Thorfinn hummed his acknowledgment.

"I don't know what you're thinking."

Thorfinn turned his blue gaze to her face, and cracked a small grin. "What I'm thinking, princess, is that you pretty much just proposed to me."

"What? I did not!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Uh, yeah, actually, you did. You said, and I quote, so Finn, the girls and were talking today and it was mentioned that we should get married." Thorfinn explained with a laugh.

"I was trying to tell you, that that Pansy and Daphne were saying we should get married for real. I was not proposing to you."

"Well, what do you want?"

"What do I want what?"

"Do you want to get married, for real?"

"Merlin! I don't know." Hermione groaned in frustration.

"I think I might," Thorfinn announced. Hermione, who had her hands over her faced, dropped her arms to her side and stared at him in shock.

"You what?" She asked. But suddenly, Thorfinn dropped to one knee and it was her only reply.

"Hermione Granger, These past few months have shown me what it is to be the good guy, something I've never been before. I realize that I want to be your hero, and not your enemy, and that is more than I can say for anybody else. You make my world brighter. Would you do me the great honor of agreeing to be mine forever?" Thorfinn looked up at her, nervously awaiting her answer.

His proposal brought tears to her eyes. It wasn't the most romantic, but it was genuine and heartfelt. His words meant more to her then anybody could have known. With their history of being enemies, it was a huge compliment to her that he expressed that for her, he wanted to change. That she had somewhat already inspired a change within him. She smiled through the tears, and considered her answer. She knew she loved him, and she wasn't denying that there were things they needed to work out. But, she wondered at the possibility of working through them as a couple. Throwing caution to the wind, she beamed at him. "Yes. Yes Finn, I'll marry you."

He rose to his feet and scooped her up into his arms, kissing her soundly. It was official, they were well and truly engaged. Thorfinn and Hermione, not Thorfinn and Blair.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too," she replied, kissing him again.

"So is that all you discussed with the girls today?" he inquired after a few minutes. Hermione nodded frowning guiltily. She knew she should be learning more from them about being a society wife, to aide their mission. Or even discussing things about their mission as a whole, but they had not even mentioned one thing about it that day.

"Yes," she admitted, "that was it. But would now be a good time to tell you that Pansy seems to have most of the details for the entire wedding already planned out in her head?"

Thorfinn couldn't help it, he burst out laughing at the tone of voice Hermione used when issuing that statement.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Writers Block is the worst. I realize I haven't been keeping to my update schedule and I am trying. Rest assured that I am in no way putting DLG on the side and I am working on the story even if my muse is fighting me a bit, this won't be abandoned. It may be awhile before I'm back on a regular routine with it so I ask for your patience. Thank you to all of my dedicated readers and reviewers for your support, as always. Enjoy Chapter 24.**

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The wedding plans were in full swing not two weeks later. Since they were already been posing as an engaged couple, nothing changed outwardly. The ring remained the same as did the affectionate playfulness of their dynamic in the relationship. If you were not "in the know," as it were, then the only thing different was that Blair Nightshade was, finally, planning the details and seemingly excited to settle down.

Hermione was quite ecstatic. Thorfinn had truly dropped to his knees and proposed to her, heartfelt and for her, not for their prolonged survival. She was getting to marry, truly marry and bond with, the wizard who she loved. She knew it wouldn't be without its challenges down the line, and they still had a ton of differences to work out as well as their history to deal with, but Hermione loved Finn, and she didn't want to be with anyone else, ever again.

The cincher in the plans, at the moment, was her disguise. Blair, was for all intents and purposes, completely made up. Certainly, she was based off of a real person, but Thorfinn later admitted to her that Hermione's cover story was largely based only on stories he heard of her cousin's friend. He had never actually met the witch they were using for this pretense. Blair as an American, wouldn't have family in England, but she would have a family, who would be expected at the wedding. Hermione, masquerading as Blair had no connection to those American witches and wizards. Moreover, they wouldn't appreciate the fact Hermione's adoption of the real Blair for a cover, much less agree to attended a wedding for somebody they didn't know. There were no fake relatives they could fall back on so, it was a dilemma.

"Fucking hell," the wizard ran his hands through his hair. "Why didn't I think this shit through?"

"You had bigger things to worry about on you mind at the time, Finn," Hermione placated. Walking up to her pacing and agitated fiancé, she wrapped her arms around him, calming him down. "Don't worry about it, I'll figure out something. I'll enlist Pansy's help if I need to."

"Bloody hell, no!" Thorfinn exclaimed. "That witch, has had her blasted nose in every detail of this wedding and she damned well will not be in on this too."

Laughing, Hermione replied, "Yes, well, at any rate you are much too freaked out by this when I know we will find a way to overcome it. We have so far."

"So far, we've been lucky, Princess."

"We have," she agreed. "Though, we have also been smart, cautious and on guard, ready to fight. True, our circumstances may not be ideal, however, we have proved that when we put our heads together we can accomplish the unthinkable." Thorfinn raised his blue eyes to her with a withering glare.

"Don't give me that look, mister," Hermione stood with her hands on her hips matching his look with one of her own to rival it. "You know I'm right."

"I mean it, princess, No Pansy. I want ten minutes without her jumping on my case about something."

"Fine, no Pansy," the witch sighed.

A sly, slow forming smirk crossed Finn's features, before he drawled out smoothly, "do you want to know what would make me feel loads better, princess?"

Hermione couldn't hold back the grin at his remark even though she tried to give him a stern look. It failed entirely when her wizard swept her off her feet into his arms and began striding out of his study and to their bedroom, as she burst into a fit of giggles.

"Finn," she tried to protest, "I really am so busy, and there is too much planning to do."

"You need a break," Thorfinn grunted at his witch, and deposited her on the bed. "I'm going to make sure you take one."

"But," it was futile arguing. Hermione knee deep in floral arrangements, cake tasting, dress fittings and the whole nine yards of her wedding plans had been neglecting her own body. Her own body which now was demanding exactly what Thorfinn was offering, growing wet and achy at the mere thought of his touch. She shouldn't, but she was giving in. "Fine." She sighed.

Thorfinn smirked knowing when he was victorious and wasted not a second longer, scooping Hermione right back up and taking here into the master bath. Were they going to shower together? No, he began running the taps for a bath, filling the tub with hot water and aromatic vanilla mint bubbles. She shivered in anticipation, bathing together was very intimate, and while she was very close with this wizard, the excitement laced with it a spark of insecurity.

Vanishing both of their clothes and dropping her glamour, Finn stepped into the cool, porcelain tub fist, before stretching out his arm and offering his hand to her. His eyes were feasting on her curves, on the way her breasts swelled, on her rosy peaks and wandering lower. To the scars that lingered on her hips from her attack at the ministry, to her marvelously flat stomach, to the freckle to the left of belly button and finally to her womanhood and the glistening folds at her core. He hummed his approval as his witch placed her hand in his and he pulled her towards him. Sinking down into the water he made himself comfortable and eased Hermione down to sit between his knees, against his body.

The both groaned at the contact and the soothing heat from the water. Hermione wiggled to be even closer, and bit her lip at the insistent pressure that was poking into the curve of her bum. She realized that as long as she had been ignoring her own needs that she had been denying him as well. She made to reach behind her back for his erection, but Finn quickly stopped her by holding her hand captive and stretching it out to rest on her side. With his free hand, he slithered his fingers down to her slit and dipped inside her warm, wet folds. She moaned, and he pressed as kiss to her neck before whispering.

"Let me take care of you, Princess."

Hermione wanted to tell him that she should take care of him, but all that escaped her lips was a moan at Thorfinn's ministrations. He had added another finger to her core and was teasingly, tantalizing pumping them in and out, all the while rubbing her clit with his thumb. He pressed kisses to her neck, sucking softly, leaving little marks of evidence to their passion.

"Finn, please," she cried out not long after he began, high from the increasing pleasure and the rush of bliss looming over her, and the added heat from the water and their bodies embrace. "Please, I need you."

Thorfinn smiled into Hermione's neck and didn't heed her pleas as he only quickened his pace and brought her spiraling down around his fingers. The moment her climax ebbed down, Hermione twisted in his hold and impaled herself on his turgid cock, causing them both to groan.

"Fuck, princess," He bit out when his momentary shock abated.

"I told you, I needed you," Hermione stated unapologetically.

"So, you did," he acquiesced and then thrust up into her and there was no more words exchanged. Mutual grunts of pleasure and perhaps mumbled comments about how it felt so good, so nice, may have passed from time to time, thought it was mostly just heavy breathing and moaning for the next fifteen minutes. When they climaxed it was in unison. They did eventually get around to bathing and once clean, cuddled in their bed together. However, the moment didn't last long, as Hermione did have wedding plans that demanded her attention and if the muffled yelling from downstairs was anything to go by, an annoyed Pansy was growing restless with the disappearing act the two had pulled.

Hermione sighed and went downstairs to face the firing squad. Reaching the bottom step though, she was greeted with a huff of irritation and a smirking Pansy.

"I see you've been busy," remarked the dark-haired witch. Hermione flushed, taking note of her appearance, realized with horror she had not redone her glamour. Without a word, she rushed back upstairs to Finn and frantically gestured to her appearance.

"Fuck, that's right." He mumbled. Lazily he picked up his wand, pictured the appearance he had come to think of as his witches' false persona, clearly in his mind and recited the incantation. When the wave of magic passed over her, Hermione now stood before him once more as Blair.

"You might want to put on more than your robe though, yeah Princess?"

"Oh Merlin!" She exclaimed. "Why? Why did you let me leave looking like that?"

"You left before I could say a word, love."

"Stupid wizards," Hermione grumbled under her breath as she quickly changed into something a little less revealing to what she had just been doing with her fiancé, although it was too late as the damage was done.

Returning to the main parlor, Hermione grinned sheepishly at her friend turned wedding planner, turned nutcase.

"Ready to get back to work?" pansy inquired. "Or have you not yet had enough of your itch scratched?'

"Can it, Pansy."

"I'd love to, but too much to do, and this, this is too good to have on you to just let slide."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't," replied the Slytherin witch. "Are you ready for the dinner party tomorrow?"

Hermione remained passive. She wasn't ready for the dinner party. It wasn't something she wanted but was deemed necessary now that the wedding plans were drawing closer to the close. Now that the date had been officially established and carefully penned save the dates were owled out, it was necessary to have an official gathering of their closest friends -though most couldn't be called that – to well wish them. It wasn't an engagement party, not really, that already passed, but it was still a tradition. Keeping up pretenses meant that she couldn't get away with not having whatever this was considered to be.

"The details are all arranged, yes." Pansy sighed at the reluctant and overly polite response to the subject.

"Look, I know it's the last thing you want, but it's simply just something we purebloods do. It would be odd if you didn't host it. Frankly if you didn't, I don't think the Minister Malfoy would have let the matter drop and he would have thrown a party in your honor."

"I know." Hermione replied, and then "I've got it. Can we just go back to these Circe damned flower arrangements please?"

The matter was dropped. It was evident Pansy had more she wanted to say, but was cunning enough to gauge that Hermione was in no mood to discuss it further. Conversation was limited for the rest of the evening, with Hermione being exhausted and cranky. Shortly after they focused on the task ahead, they had settled the wedding bouquet. It would consist of half a dozen light pink roses representing her desire and passion for Finn. Aster and honeysuckle would be included as well to symbolize the love between them, while baby's breath served to tie it all together and tell that she was pure of heart and innocent. Altogether it made for a lovely arrangement. With that order of business complete, Hermione called it quits.

"Pansy, I'm tired. I know I've been bitchy and reclusive today and for that I apologize. Though I just want to call it quits and mentally prepare for tomorrow."

"Mentally prepare? Or perhaps climb in between the sheets with your wizard again?" Teased her friend.

"Both if I'm completely honest." Hermione laughed out, enfolding her arms around the small frame of the other witch in a tight hug.

"I'll see you at dinner tomorrow, Hermione. But be warned, it's the only day off I'm giving you."

"Yes, yes, I know." Hermione chanted and bid her friend goodnight.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Thank you to all of you for you patience and your continued supports. My muse has really taken to desserting me as of late but I'm not letting writer's block stop me. While updates may be shorter and take longer than I would like, please know that I am not giving up on this story. I love your reviews and they are helping me keep pushing through even when my muse is being difficult. thank you for understanding and without further ado enjoy Chapter 25.**

* * *

The glamoured witch completed the finishing touches on her attire for the evening just as the wards chimed, signaling that at least one of their guests had arrived. The Viking like blond who was lounging in the doorframe watching his witch, sulked as he strode off to greet whoever was at their door. Hermione sighed, loathing the whole concept of the gathering, but knowing there was no turning back now. Breathing deeply and meditating to channel the persona she was disguised as she scooped up the hem of her dress and stepped on to the staircase cautiously before making her way down. The dinner party was inevitable if she wanted to maintain her cover, and it was best not to prolong the inevitable. As she reached the bottom step she barely had time to look up and see who had arrived before Lucius Malfoy sauntered up to her.

She bristled slightly, something that didn't escape the minister's notice, but otherwise kept back the grimace when he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "My dear Blair, you look absolutely stunning tonight," Lucius drawled in his usual tone.

A shiver ran down Hermione's spine at the apprising once over the platinum blond gave her with the compliment. However, despite the unease she had to agree, she did look stunning, though her gown was not one she chose for herself. A mysterious, unsigned package was owled to her earlier that day, which contained the garment. Made of Black chiffon and lace, the gown fell to her ankles with a split seem up to her lower thigh one one side. The dress hugged her snuggly and dipped low to show of her assets. It was also backless, showing off quite a bit of her skin. Hermione didn't allow the shudder to pass through her, instead twisted her face into a semi-smirk as she replied to his praise.

"Thank you, Lord Malfoy," she pretended to be flattered, as she looked around the room quickly to see that Lords Dolohov and Lestrange as well as Draco, Blaise and Theo where all standing about with their dates.

"Lucius, dear girl. How many times must I ask you to call me Lucius?"

"Of course, thank you Lucius," She repeated. "Where did Finn get off to, I thought he came down to greet you all already?" At Hermione's question the satisfied expression dropped of Lucius's face. Good, Hermione thought, let him grumble over the fact that I'm not falling head over heels for his attention. A moment passed before Hermione felt a strong, muscular arm wrap around her waist and tug her against a well-toned torso. Thorfinn's familiar musky scent wafted towards her.

"Good evening, Lucius. I'm so glad you could make it this evening," Thorfinn greeted the minister like an old friend. Well, Hermione mussed, she supposed he was.

She saw through the thinly disguised irritation in the other wizard's tone. "Well Rowle, I certainly wouldn't miss it." He might have been trying to be polite, or to maintain his composure, but Lucius was without a doubt displeased by his comrade's presence. Hermione looked from one face to another and realized she was in between two wizards and a pissing contest, with Thorfinn publicly claiming her as his, and Lucius resentfully challenging his claim. Hermione, needed to diffuse the growing tension between them before one of them did something they would regret, namely Finn.

Assessing the group she took notice that nobody had been served drinks yet. It was the ideal way to break up emerging hostility and play hostess at the same time, and so Hermione called out for Moppy. The loud crack resounded throughout the hall as the elf appeared. "Please bring our guest a drink while we wait on dinner to be ready," she instructed.

The withering elf bowed her head and turned her ears down to acknowledge the command and as quickly as she arrived, disappeared to do her bidding. Hermione stepped out of Finn's tight hold on her and went about greeting her other guests. She allowed both Antonin and Rabastan to kiss her hand in greeting before the former introduced his two brides. Hermione had to bite her tongue to avoid gasping at her schoolmates appearances. They were clothed, but barley with angry purple bruises and red welts even some bite marks scattered across their skin. Neither witch looked up at her, seemingly finding their toes a fascinating fixture to watch. Knowing she could do nothing without giving herself away she huffed and moved past them. Draco and Astoria came next, followed by Theo and Daphne and then Blaise. Narcissa Malfoy was notably absent as well. Just as she was walking back towards Finn, the floo flared to life and the last, fashionably late, guest arrived in style.

"Oh, good, you got the parcel I sent," the new arrival greeted Hermione. Only one person would be so distractingly abrupt.

"Hello to you to, Pansy," Hermione smirked rolling her eyes.

"What? Oh, yes. Hullo darling," Pansy said and embraced her friend. "The dress looks fantastic on your Blair."

"I'm sure you already knew it would," Hermione retorted. Moppy returned just at the moment with a tray of assorted cocktails, straight-up whiskey and wine and served a glass to everyone present. Once everyone had a glass in hand, Pansy proposed a toast.

"To Thorfinn and Blair and the celebration of having finally settled on a date for their upcoming nuptials," the brunette raised her glass and everyone else followed suit, before breaking into their own felicitations and questions.

"How are the wedding plans going, may I ask?" Lucius expressed his curiosity a few minutes later. Hermione and Pansy had differing opinions on this and both replied as such, much to the amusement of the Malfoy patriarch.

"Well, they are not going quite as I would have planned," Hermione said.

Meanwhile, Pansy shot her a glare and interjected with "The plans are coming along quite nicely, Minister."

Lucius chuckled before asking "you are the wedding planner?"

"Well, I suppose, though it isn't an official title or anything," Pansy shrugged.

"Ms. Parkinson has been terrorizing Blair and I with her endless presence and demands," Thorfinn glowered. The rest of the guests chuckled at that.

"Well, I couldn't very well leave you in charge," huffed the dark-haired witch, "And Blair is too head over heels for you to fight you herself."

The bantering back and forth was lively and entertaining but it was time for it to end. Dinner would be served in short order and the drink glasses were well below the half-full mark.

"Shall we head in?" Hermione said trying to move passed the growing tension in the room. Without waiting for a response, she waltzed into the dining room. She sensed more than felt the presence of Thorfinn following closely behind her.

As soon as everyone was seated a feast magically appeared on the table, and Thorfinn began filling her plate. She looked at him with a scowl, but nobody else seemed to find the action odd.

"Were you not aware, Blair, that at these traditional pre wedding, and indeed the wedding reception itself, that it is customary for the couple to choose their favorite dishes to serve to their partner?" It was Antonin who asked the question.

"It is not a practice in America. Back home the couple feeds each other a bite of cake at the reception, but otherwise we feed ourselves."

"Rowle mate, you are lacking in your duties of keeping your charming fiancé up to speed," Rabastan

goaded in good humor.

"Indeed," a chorus of others agreed. Thorfinn sighed, and turned towards her.

"Yes darling, it is a tradition. Why don't you do me the honor of selecting your favorites for me."

Hermione glared at him before moving to do just that. Once the exchange was done, the other began to fill their own plates. Hermione glanced at her own meal to see what Finn had chosen. There was some roasted lamb, bacon wrapped asparagus, sliced turkey in a gravy sauce, scallop potatoes and a bit of Sheppard's pie. She began eating as soon as was polite to do so.

"Tell me Blair," Lucius began his question, "have you had a change to try one of the red's I recommended?" He gestured towards her wineglass, obviously full of a sweet, white instead of a deep crimson.

"I have not," she replied.

"Perhaps you would be inclined as to try some now. I know a lovely vintage that would go splendidly with those dishes."

Hermione inclined her head as an acceptance of his offer and Lucius summoned his own house elf to bring the bottle he mentioned. It arrived not a moment later. She sipped the burgundy liquid and was pleasantly surprised that it wasn't as dry as every other red she had imbibed was. It was sweet, and light and smelled fantastic.

"It's delicious," she praised and Lucius smirked.

"Isn't it? I have several similar wines. In fact, why don't you and Thorfinn show me your cellar after dinner? I'll gift you a wine cellar for your wedding."

Hermione stared at him dumbfounded for a moment. "That is too generous, Lucius."

"Nonsense. You enjoy wine, and I'm working on converting your tastes to red. It makes perfect sense."

"Wow, well thank you."

"Anything for you pet."

She heard the low warning growl Thorfinn emitted at the unwarranted nickname. "Do you really need a wine cellar, darling?" He asked.

"Finn, I know it is a big change to the estate, and while no I don't need one perhaps, Lucius is being very thoughtful by gifting us with one. We will accept it graciously," she chided for show, shuddering at even the slightest suggestion of supporting the wizard's sneaky advances.

"Of course we will. It is a very thoughtful gesture on the minister's part. I just wonder, why go to such extreme efforts? What incentive is in it for him?"

Hermione stared at Thorfinn with a very real expression of horror. What for Godric's sake did he think he was doing? He squeezed her knee in an attempt to reassure her that he had a plan, but without knowing his plan, she was nervous by his comments. He had just openly insulted a fellow lord, and technically one who was his boss. This could have very negative repercussions if she didn't play this exactly right. She just wasn't sure what the best way to proceed was.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Thank you as always for your patience, continued support and reviews. Please enjoy chapter 26.**

A tense silence filled the room at Thorfinn's thinly disguised accusation towards the Minister. Hermione continued to gape at him in horror and she could feel the stares in their direction from the other guests. Thorfinn, studiously ignoring the boosted attention, maintained a cold, sharp glare in Lucius's direction. The pins and needle quiet was soon broken by Lucius's laughter. The minister broke into boisterous, contagious laughter that soon spread among the other guests.

"My, My Rowle," The minister gasped trying to catch his breath again, "You make it sound as though it's a boon for me to kidnap our pretty young Blair away from you."

Thorfinn snickered and shrugged his shoulders apologetically but Hermione knew it wasn't heartfelt.

"Finn," Hermione admonished.

"No, No Blair, I assure you my dear, it is quite alright. Rowle here has always had a steak of the green eyed monster in him, and really who can fault him for staking his claim on you? I would do the same if it were my ring you wore." Thorfinn went rigid beside her at the remark, but playing the charade Hermione smiled.

"I am relieved to hear you are not insulted Lucius. Perhaps, though it would be best if I showed you the cellars myself, to avoid any chance of Thorfinn burning something down, as he is prone to do when jealous."

The smirk that settled over the blond's features was nearly as obvious as was the glower her affianced directed towards her at the suggestion. It was Hermione's turn to ease to reassure Finn with a gentle squeeze of his hand. She was perfectly capable of looking after herself, and she had a plan of her own.

"A splendid idea Blair," exclaimed the minister.

The conversation turned back to idle wedding chatter and before long the meal was concluded and the majority of the guests were settled into the library for a post dinner drink. However, Hermione was about to head downstairs, alone, with Lucius Malfoy.

* * *

The cellars were dark, only Hermione's Lumos made seeing possible, but none-the-less she led him down to where she suspected would be the best place for a wine cellar.

"Hmmmm, this won't do at all," Lucius said dryly.

"What won't do?"

"The lighting. I'll have to order charmed torchlights to light the path down here," he explained.

Hermione hummed at that, it was true that lighting would be useful, but she didn't want to be tied any more up with him than necessary. When they reached the end of the narrow passage and emerged in a cool, dark stone room. Lucius, immediately cast some charm that caused orbs of light to settle in on the ceiling making it appear like stars but bright enough to light the small space. Hermione dropped her Lumos.

"This space will do nicely, yes. It wouldn't take too much work, a good clearing, installing some shelfing units and of course proper lighting and it will be a right proper wine cellar."

"I'm glad to hear it," Hermione said then paused. She wanted to implement her plan, one where she would carefully extract herself from the wizard's unwanted attentions but remained allied with him for her own protection, all without giving herself away. She wasn't sure how she should go about starting that conversation, the idea seemed better in her head than it did now in real time. She floundered trying to find a way to start before she soon realized that she did not need to.

In the next moment, Lucius was approaching her and every step nearer he made she took one backwards. Soon, her back was against the wall and Lucius had her trapped between the cold stone and his arms. She thought he was just going to try and kiss her, but he didn't. Instead he cocked his head to the side and looked at her appraisingly.

"I must say, you've done wonderfully well with the pretense Miss. Granger," He eventually remarked with a smirk. She was surprised it wasn't his trademark sneer. Hermione gasped both in surprise and in fear. She should deny, but fear had frozen her veins and apparently her ability to speak. Lucius didn't leave her a chance to talk her way out of it anyway, simply cast something Hermione could tell by the signature was a very dark charm, revealing her true identity to him without removing her glamour.

Well now she was fucked, there was no way out of this. She trembled slightly thinking of Finn, and felt the tears form in her eyes. Lucius sighed heavily, and rose one hand to wipe them away. It was almost tender. "Shhh, no need for such dramatics. I'm not out for blood."

"How did you find out?" Hermione asked when she found her voice.

"Draco," Lucius replied with a shrug. Hermione felt a pang of familiar betrayal before he continued. "The boy thinks he is sly, and while I admit to most he is, he never could hide anything from me. I had a conversation with Walden, that planted the seed of suspicion, and my son's behavior confirmed it."

"Please, whatever you do to me I don't care, but please don't hurt Finn," she begged. Lucius looked stricken for a moment, then grinned.

"You really do love him don't you?"

"I do, and I'd suffer anything to save him," she vowed.

'Gryffindor's," The minister muttered. "As I said, I'm not out for blood."

"Then what do you want?"

"You." Hermione held her breath, having expected as much. Before she could reply he continued. "I've wanted you for years my dear, I despised you at first, always besting my son, but you grew up quite nicely and don't think I failed to notice as much at the Department of Mysteries. I don't know why my desires have settled on you, when I have so many other mistresses to choose from, but I see clearly now that I'll never have you the way I wish," He said the last part softly, almost morosely.

Hermione made a questioning sound, wondering why he wouldn't take what he wanted when he held all the cards in his hand. He explained himself further, "You love him. I fear that I'm not looking merely for another mistress Miss Granger, au contraire, I'm after something I've never had before and if you love him it means you can never love me. If you can't love me I'll settle for you not hating me, which forcing you would do."

"Then what are you going to do?" She prepared herself for whatever his answer was, expecting the worst, that she would be tortured, Finn killed, their cause lost. She wasn't processing the meaning behind his words, too afraid of what would happen next and trying to brace herself for the reality. Which is why his next words shocked her.

"I'm going to help you of course."

"What?" she asked dumfounded.

"I'll help you. You will be able to maintain your charade, live in peace with your beloved and I'll keep Macnair and any others off of your back."

"You are going to let me be, let me continue whatever plans I have in store for you and yours?" Hermione asked dubiously.

"Yes, yes, you can continue with my son and his friends to plot your overthrow, Miss Granger."

"Why?"

"For centuries the Malfoy's have been the money and the force behind the Minister, powerful and influential but free of the daily hassles that come with running our world. I never wanted to be the Minister, I only became one to maintain my power, but alas it bores me, and the people who are under me are Neanderthals."

No argument there, she thought. "What is in this for you?"

"Aside from your obvious foolhardy bravery I can see Slytherin tendencies in you my dear. Of course, there are conditions to my generosity," Lucius drawled. "In exchange for this newfound allegiance, I want two things. First, a kiss freely given, and second your friendship."

"That's it? You do drive a hard bargain my lord." Hermione said, but inside all she felt was relief. She would be safe, more importantly Finn would be safe. Without hesitation she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. He depend it immediately and their tongues met for a moment before he ended the kiss abruptly.

"I'll take that as your agreement. Now, lets you and I go and have a little chat with Rowle about what all this means."

"As you wish, Lucius." Hermione acquiesced and motioned for him to lead the way.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: As always a profound note of gratitude to all of you who read, review, favorite and follow, your support is much appreciated. It has come to my attention through all of your reviews on the last chapter with the shocking plot twist (for me as well as it was completely unplanned), that a great deal of you still have your suspicions about good old Lucius. So, without giving anything away… I have decided to include a passage this chapter to provide some insight to said Malfoy's line of thought. I hope that you all enjoy it and I look forward to your thoughts.**

The walk up from the cellars was a quiet affair, neither Lucius nor Hermione speaking. When the door to Thorfinn's study opened the rowdy joking from the rest of the dinner party was jarring. Finn immediately sensed that something had happened and crossed to his witch's side, wrapping an arm around her in comfort. She leaned into his side. Lucius, observant, manipulative and impatient as always noted their position and used it as an opportunity.

"Gentlemen, Pansy," Lucius began, "The hour is getting late and I feel it would be best if we get out of our host's hair and leave them to celebrate their upcoming nuptials in peace."

"Ah but minister, the night is still young!" protested Rabastan mildly.

"That may be, but I must insist. I'm sure Rowle and Blair would appreciate it."

"I see," Pansy said. "No need to tell me twice. I'm out of here. Blair I'll be back at 8:00 tomorrow morning, be ready."

Hermione groaned playfully. "Yes Pansy. Thank you everybody for coming."

The rest of the guests caught the hint and made their pleasant farewells and passed through the floo in Finn's study, far too drunk to apparate home.

When the majority of the guests were gone, and Draco made to leave, Lucius stopped him, leaving the study with just the four of them.

"What is going on?" Thorfinn asked slowly, to which Draco, equally clueless, nodded in agreement.

"Finn, he knows."

"Knows what…. NO!"

"If you are referring to the question as to whether or not I know that Blair Nightshade is really one Miss. Hermione Granger, then yes."

"How?" Questioned Draco.

"You are not a sneaky as you think you are," Lucius retorted to his son and Thorfinn turned a furious glare at the young blond.

"I didn't mean to, Thor I swear. I was super careful."

"Draco forgets that he can't out sneak me. I was pulling the same antics long before he was born, I recognize the signs."

"So what are you going to do?" Thorfinn asked, concern and fear in his eyes.

"Nothing. I'm going to let you play your little masquerade and go and as you are. I'm going to keep others from finding out."

"What's the catch?" Finn raised an eyebrow not believing what he heard. The wizard must require some kind of payment in return.

"Hermione here already has paid the price, and agreed to the terms. That and I grow tired of running the band of idiots who hold position in the new regime. A restore of balance would beneficial for all concerned, but I can't be seen to suggest as much. You are doing that for me," Lucius smirked. Thorfinn narrowed his eyes, Draco gaped in disbelief and Hermione silently waited for the other shoe to drop.

"I'll bid you all goodnight," the elder Malfoy finished and went through the floo without another word. Nobody moved for some time after that.

Eventually, Thorfinn noticed that Draco was still there and clenched his fists.

"What did you do?" He roared at the other wizard.

Draco stared at the Viking-like stance of Thorfinn enraged and quaked with fear. Hermione sensed that something needed to be done to cool her beloved's ire and intervened by stepping in front of Thorfinn.

"Finn," she began calmly but his furious gaze was still planted firmly on Draco. "Finn!" She finished and waited until his eyes made contact with hers and then placed her hands on his chest. "It's not important what Draco did, it wasn't intentional. You heard Lucius, Draco can't out fox him as he already knows every trick and sign in the book, he sensed Draco was keeping secrets from him and he went digging. Draco didn't leave a trail of evidence for him to find, it's not his fault, now leave him alone."

The longer Hermione's rant went on, the calmer Thorfinn became. Eventually he just pulled Hermione into his arms and propped his chin on her head.

"I am sorry Thorfinn," Draco eventually managed to speak.

"Just go home Draco," Thorfinn sighed heavily. The blond nodded dully and moved through the floo himself.

"How did you manage to convince the prat to help you?" Thorfinn asked once Draco vanished, referring to the minister.

"I didn't," Hermione sighed. "I was so sure that once he cursed me to reveal my true identity that he would kill you and send me to Macnair. I begged for your life but he wasn't interested in revenge."

"What was his price?"

"A kiss."

"A kiss?"

"Yes, A kiss freely given and a promise of friendship and he said he would help us."

"I don't like this."

"I know, me either. There wasn't much I could do, he used a dark curse to reveal my true identity to him alone, I felt my glamour drop for a fraction of a second but it was long enough to prove my identity. I'm not sure we should trust him."

"No, we shouldn't. Nothing comes easy with Lucius Malfoy, and I don't believe for a second that he is satisfied with only a kiss and future friendship. Did you really kiss the pretentious arse?"

"Ummm, yes," Hermione said guiltily. "It was kind of horrible, not because he's a bad kisser or anything but because I only ever want to kiss you."

With her words, Thorfinn smiled widely and slanted his lips over hers to do just that. Hermione melted into his embrace and opened her mouth to tangle her tongue with his, pressing her body more firmly against his, needing the proximity. The kiss was slow but by no means gentle, both of them using the other to forget about their worries for a while and just lose themselves.

Eventually the snogging ended, and Hermine let out a low whine from the back of her throat at the loss.

"Was that a better kiss for you then princess?" He smirked.

"Oh, yes, but not nearly enough," Hermione replied playfully before dragging him back down and kissing him once again. She didn't stop until they managed to stumble down the hall, rip off clothes and fall into bed naked. Of course, once that happened the snogging turned too much, much more.

* * *

Lucius poured himself a glass of his best aged scotch after closing and warding the door to his private study in the manor. He proceeded to drink the amber liquid and stare mindlessly into the flames, lost to his own thoughts.

He didn't want to be bothered so he took the precautionary methods knowing that after his hasty exit from Rowle mansion that Draco no doubt would come looking to have questions answered. Lucius was in no mood to answer any of them.

His inner demons were haunting him tonight. Visions of his great many misdeeds and shortcomings flaunted before him in the dancing flames of the fire as if to prove to him that they would lead him to hellfire. His musings were on her, Hermione. The witch he had all but given up tonight.

The thought alone was cause to drown himself in the bottle of liquor and mope. He had fancied the girl for a long, long time. It may be wrong but dare he say it since he first encountered her in Flourish and Blotts before second year.

 _So this, this is the Granger girl, thought Lucius inwardly to himself a small smirk evading his otherwise icy facial expression. Since last September all Draco did was complain about Granger this or that, and Potter and Weasley, but mostly Granger. She beat him at every subject, and found every possible way to annoy his son, and Lucius was to the point where he would greatly like to kill the sorry mudblood if only it would shut his son up._

 _He eyed her, and wrinkled his nose in false distaste. He insulted her parentage and her appearance but inwardly refused to admit that where Draco saw a plain, bushy haired girl, he himself saw a power radiating from her curly hair and ambition in her chocolate gaze._

 _Then the little swot opened her mouth and gave him a dressing down which infuriated him, and henceforth sealed her in his memory forever._

Yes, Lucius thought, he never did forget her after that. He had been so impossibly annoyed with her audacity for months after that, but later came to terms that she had courage for sure, as disgustingly Gryffindor as it was, because nobody had ever put him in his place so casually before. It was for some strange reasons a breath of fresh air.

 _He was already on edge, trying to maintain a calm exterior and blasé façade despite knowing that in mere hours he would be donning a cloak and mask and wreaking havoc, and struggling to keep it all together and not blow the plan. Then he saw her, within a crowd of Weasleys heading up to their seats at the World Cup, and he was distracted even more so by her fierce and proud stance. She shot a firm look of contempt at him and Draco and looked so radiant. He wanted her then, even knowing she was far too young, he vowed he would one day have her beneath him and he would morph her glare of hatred into one of pleasure. He had to pinch himself and mentally scream that she was a mudblood to keep from losing himself right there._

Lucius poured himself yet another glass and tried to ignore the flashbacks. It was a hopeless pursuit of time. The memories wouldn't stop playing and so he didn't stop drinking.

 _It was a dirty business. He was already on the dark lord's shit list and now he was beaten by a bunch of school aged children. He failed his mission, and knowing what fate awaited him when he was brought before his lord, could honestly say that he didn't mind being locked away in Azkaban to delay the inevitable. Though the only thing he could do to keep sane and to pass the time behind bars was to think, and when he stopped to think, he thought of her. She was stunning, quick with her wand, fierce and hair sparking with magic as always, but now she was turning a corner with her appearance to, distracting him from his duty. She had a curvy figure and he could see the shapes of her full breasts through her thick jumper. He couldn't wait to have her. He saw her hit with a curse from Dolohov. He wondered if he ever would have her, knowing his brethren's capabilities… Back in the day Antonin had been curious about creating charms and curses and very skilled at doing so, he had shown promise with the dark arts but then he got a little too carried away and wound up thrown in this hellhole for 15 years. Azkaban had ruined his mind and his potential, now Dolohov was just a quick tempered, demented brute who loved inflicting violent pain. He feared that despite her obvious power that Hermione Granger was no match for him._

But she had been. She had survived the curse, not unscathed he was certain, but alive. Of course he didn't know that until much later. After the failure at the Ministry, He was locked away for months until the second prison break, and in that time Draco had been forced to take the mark. He stopped writing to his father, was at school when he escaped and refused to write that whole year, so Lucius heard nothing of Granger.

 _Her screams sent shivers up his spine. She didn't deserve this but he was too cowardly to stand up against his twisted sister in law. Bellatrix was demented but she ways loyal through and through to their lord and any suspicion she had on any of their brethren was reported to the dark lord and usually resulted in imminent death. He could do nothing to help the broken and bloodied witch before him, he could only watch as she suffered Bellatrix's cruciatus and still withheld revealing anything. He implored her silently to just give in, to stop the torture, but she didn't and he watched on in horror and disgust as the word mudblood was carved into her forearm. He couldn't breathe until she had managed to get away and had never been more relived to have given Dobby a dirty sock and present him his freedom. If he had not her escape would not have been._

She was also magnificent in the battle he thought. _He had been wandless and dodged curses left and right, running to avoid death and capture. He was officially against the dark lord but it was too late to join the side of the order so he remained neutral. He still noticed her, and she was breathtaking. He had seen her fight before, had seen her in the most pain she would probably ever experience and it was no comparison for how strong she was in those hours. Potter defeated the dark lord and then the chaos formed. He managed to escape with countless other brethren, the ministry was in disarray and he took control in the power vacuum, at a price. He was given the keys to the kingdom, but he had to deal with the brutish, and depraved way of his brethren and keep them happy enough to keep them in line. The surviving order members went to hiding as laws and policies were enacted. He never saw Hermione after that…_

He despised the stupid reeducation protocol. However, he had needed something in place to make it seem as though he still believed in the pureblood supremacy. Truthfully, he had learned how overrated it was, after serving the maniac. He knew that the other brethren had come to fear and doubt Voldemort as well and therefore his "betrayal" of him didn't affect them as much. However, they still craved the violence they had become too accustomed to and coveted the power and privilege that came with being on top. To keep himself from being eaten alive Lucius had to play into their desires. His skill in secrets, manipulation and Blackmail came very in handy. He made promises to his fellow lords that he had no intention of keeping. He was never going to allow Hermione to fall into the hands of Macnair and Nott, especially when he had wanted her for so long, yet he allowed them to believe that if/when she was captured that was exactly what would happen….

He never expected to have been played himself, but when he realized that he was he looked to the advantage. Keeping these mongrels in place was stressful and near on impossible. He didn't want that responsibility but he overplayed his hand or if he tried to maneuver is way out now they would turn on him and he would not make it out alive.

His third glass of scotch came with the heavy realization that he was playing a dangerous game. He was allowing the dissention in his ranks and helping the witch he desired but had promised to let go. He didn't want to but saw the way she looked at Rowle. She would not be swayed away from him, and would seek revenge on anyone who would take her away. She would never love him. Not as he had grown to desire and love her. But he couldn't just let her slip through his fingers either. It was a difficult conundrum.


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Thank you, as always, to all of my readers, and to those who leave me words of encouragement. Please enjoy the latest chapter!**

* * *

Red. Rage, hatred and ill-wishing filled his every waking though, and even his dreams to the point that he was nearly always seeing red. Literally. Walden Macnair held a firm grip on some Ogden's Old not bothering with a glass and drinking it straight from the bottle. The little game he had been weaving in the beginning was fun, arousing and twisted and he loved every second of making his prey come to fear him and look for him everywhere she went. It only mildly annoyed him when the bird wouldn't give much reaction, because he knew deep down she was afraid. He regretted not taking her straightaway when she escaped, but he easily discovered where she was hiding, and who she was pretending to be. Since then he dedicated his time to playing, threatening, promising what he would do when he had her, and making sure his prize knew that eventually he _would_ have her. But now, now, he was passed the point where playing games was amusing, beyond wanting to have a little fun with the mudblood whore. No, now he wanted her dead, and he vowed he would kill her if it was the last thing he did. He wouldn't kill her outright, he didn't think. He planned to take his time, to make it truly entertaining for himself in the process, though in the end there would be only death.

The bitch has single handily evaded him at every turn, managed to turn his own brothers on him and ruined his standing in society because he was now painted as the man who had assaulted Rowle's "Darling". A loud crash sounded as a glass figurine which has sat on the desk in the room he rented shattered against the wall he threw it at. Fury was the singular emotion present in his life, his anger blinding him and all thoughts focused on how he would make her pay. He would take a perverse sense of pleasure in fucking her raw and mutilating her before he choked the life out of her once and for all.

Hermione Granger would die, he would prove to everyone that Blair Nightshade was a fake and that Rowle was the real traitor and so help anyone who stood in his way. The only question was how.

* * *

"We should call a meeting," Hermione insisted at breakfast, or brunch depending on how early one typically ate in the mornings, the day after the dinner party.

"Why?" Thorfinn inquired over his still raised copy of the Daily prophet. Hermione, as usual in her glamour as Blair, rolled her eyes at the fact he still read the so called newspaper. Honestly, it wasn't even news anymore. It never reported anything noteworthy, ever.

"I would think that everybody has a right to know the new development. This was unforeseen and I don't think as straightforward as Lucius seems to claim it is. I don't know about you Finn, but I'd like to have a Plan B in case shit hits the ceiling."

"True, true."

"Would you put down the blasted drag rag and actually talk to me please?" Hermione remarked sweetly, with an annoyed edge to her voice. Immediately the paper lowered and revealed Thorfinn's smirking lips and raised eyebrows. "Thank you," she continued. "Now, about a meeting."

"I'm not sure I trust everyone in our inner circle," Thorfinn admitted

"Bloody hell Thorfinn. What more do they have to do to prove they are with us? Unlike some people at this table none of them liked serving the Dark Lord for any amount of time -" at this point Thorfinn interrupted her.

"Hey now that's not fair!"

"You may have feared him but at one point you believed in his cause, and you eagerly partook in the violence, so don't even sit there and protest. I'm not comparing you to them. I'm telling you that they never wanted to serve, they did it from fear and the impact of their parent's influence alone. They hate seeing what the world they were raised in has been reduced to. They believe in our cause and want to set the world back to rights. They want to payback their father's for the horrors they were subjected to. They all have their own reasons for doing so, but they won't betray us."

"Your right, princess. Of course, you're always right. I can't help how I feel though, your safety is my only priority and it will take a hell of a lot to allow me to trust others to feel the same. Taking care of you is my responsibility," her wizard explained.

Hermione's heart melted just a little at his words. "That is sweet Finn, but don't you know I've been taking care of myself for a long, long time."

"That's thing, now you don't have to do it alone," he whispered. Hermione had tears in her eyes as she launched herself from her chair and onto his lap, kissing him.

"Break it up! Break it up!" A high pitched, over dramatic and all too familiar voice shouted from the doorway to the dining room. Neither of them had heard the floo roar to life, and now Thorfinn audibly groaned in dismay. Worst timing ever.

"Go away Pansy," Hermione grumbled from her perch on her wizard's lap.

"No can do," the dark haired pureblood sing-songed mock cheerfully, "You and I have things to do. Get your Arse over here now."

Hermione sighed morosely as she attempted to rise off of Thorfinn's lap. The wizard however tightened his hold on her hips and pulled her back to straddle his growing erection.

"Get lost Parkinson," He commanded before bring his lips back to Hermione's. The kiss was frenzied but short as almost as soon as it began, Hermione was ripped out of his arms by the sharp pointy manicured hand of the Slytherin witch.

"Things to do, menus to make, weddings to plan, dresses to try on, no time for sex." Pansy insisted and dragged a reluctant Hermione from the dining room. "The sooner we get this done the sooner you can take her to bed Thor," the horrible annoyance called back over her shoulder as they rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight.

The massive wizard slumped his shoulder in defeat and sighed heavily, before deciding on a cold shower.

* * *

Draco mused as he stared into the flames of the manor's fireplace. Mentally, he was retracing his steps on how, exactly, his father could have found out that Blair was actually Hermione Granger in disguise. The answer he realized should be obvious, it went all the way back to young childhood and paved the foundation of his whole life.

As a child he had been easily bale to manipulate the elves into doing his biddy even when it skirted the lines of disobeying their master's orders. Sneaking thigs passed his mother was slightly challenging, but typically possible if he was clever enough about it. However, he was never able to hide a single thing from Lucius.

The blond sighed, his father _always_ knew when there was a secret he wanted to keep, and made it his personal mission to discover what it was and flaunt it front of his heir. Therefore, Draco berated himself for falling into the same patterns with something so huge. He should have asked them to obliviate him.

But he had not, and now Lucius knew the truth. What concerned him the most, was the lack of trust he had for his father. Lucius Malfoy may be a lot of things, but a fool was not one of them. He had an agenda, and with a heart as black as his was, didn't give things for free. His father had something planned, and he'd be damned if he let something happen to his…friend… by not stopping him. It was weird calling Granger a friend, after all those years in school, but he supposed that was what she was.

A large black owl swept into the room, its markings easily distinguishable as Rowle's familiar. Draco took the note, unfolded it and skimmed the message. He expected to be reamed out by the wizard who was a prefect and captain of the Slytherin team when he was just a first year, but instead the handwriting was feminine.

Hermione was calling an official meeting. Draco was relieved, it was good to know that the witch was taking this development with just as much caution as she should be. Now they just needed to get together and develop a plan.


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the long wait for an update. I know it's been forever, but Writer's block is just getting in the way. I'm adamantly refusing to let it win, and I'm not willing to give up the story, but updates can be slow in the process of my writing right now. I appreciate all of you who have read, reviewed, favorited and followed through the course of the story and I hope you enjoy this shorter but new chapter. Thanks again for all your patience.**

It had been three blasted hours and they had gotten nowhere. Well, if you didn't count the panic that ensued through their little band of rebels at the mention of Lucius being in the know. At least until the following explanation that he claimed to not care. The frenzy of fear abated on that note, but it left everyone feeling a sense of doubt.

None of them believed that that the minister was just letting them off scot free. First of all, he was a Malfoy, he sought power and prestige at the sake of anything and everything. Secondly, he was a Slytherin, he never did anything without having the advantage and getting something in return. There was just no way was he content to just let a little band of rebels be.

"So," drawled Draco slowly, "what we got so far is that none of us trust my father."

"That's stating the obvious there mate," Theo Nott echoed.

"I'm just surprised that the wedding planner over there hasn't come up with anything," quipped Blaise jokingly.

Pansy feigned offense, "I'm a wedding planner Zabbini, not a criminal mastermind." Her words seemed to have a sobering effect of Daphne.

"Merlin," the lithe blond witch gasped as though someone had poured ice cold water over her "that is what we are isn't it? Were criminals and old enough to be held responsible to the full extent of the law."

"Daph," Theo soothed his girlfriend, "nobody is after us, and nothing is going to happen."

"That is correct," Thorfinn announced. "Right now, the regime's main concerns are the re-education of captives and squashing the resistance. We technically are not a part of the resistance, and even if Lucius does know about us, the others do not." Everyone calmed again at his statement.

"What is our main concern," Blaise asked. "I mean we are not part of the resistance but maintain the same goals, to shut down the regime and restore a working democratic government in Wizarding Britain. However, we aren't actually doing anything, unlike our counterparts."

"Our main concern," Hermione replied "Is Macnair." Finn picked up on her turmoil at bringing up the subject, so he filled in the details for the room full of blank faces, even as he drew Hermione into his arms.

"As you know, Macnair has made it a personal vendetta to expose Blair Nightshade as Hermione. Doing so would jeopardize her safety. What you likely do not know, is why."

"Why?" Several voices raised the question.

"Macnair was slotted for custody of Hermione when she was captured, he took the liberty of attempting to locate her himself. When he found her, instead of turning her in, he made a game out of tormenting her, stalking her, sending her gruesome gifts and taunting her with what her future held in store. He intended to share her with your father Theodore, and looked forward to breaking her. Thankfully I learned of this plot and was able to relocate Hermione. However, with Hermione's sudden disappearance from her job, school and flat in the muggle world and the sudden arrival of my affianced Blair Nightshade made him suspicious. He realized that I was the only one he told other than Nott, of his plans and put two and two together."

"That's a shocker," came Draco's sarcastic reply.

"So, Macnair doesn't actually know for sure," Daphne mentioned.

"Unfortunately, we are certain that he does know. He doesn't have enough proof to convince the other lords of it however, and that is the only saving grace we have. It is only a matter of time before he comes up with something." Thorfinn explained.

"It would be so much simpler if we could get the other Lords on our side. There is no love lost between them and Macnair," Draco thought aloud.

"We considered that already," Hermione supplied. "The other's may hate Macnair, but they are currently enjoying the benefits that come with being on top, and many of them are so wrapped up in their perversions and violent tendencies to let it go now."

"I think Draco has a point though," Theo interjected smoothly. "The other's don't want to give up control, and shouldn't be let in to the truth, but they do hate Macnair enough to thwart his attempts, and we could play that to our advantage."

Interested Hermione responded, "How do you suggest Theo?"

"Most of the other lords like you, err Blair I mean," Stammered Theo when Thorfinn's face darkened into a menacing scowl. "Since they like you, they want to earn your favor. If you were to mention to them that Macnair has been continuously bothering you, they would more than likely direct their efforts into eliminating the problem."

"Yes, But Theo," Draco began, "they already know about Macnair and they haven't done much of anything aside from excluding him from group functions. He still holds his position."

"But do they know that he has continued bothering Blair?"

"He hasn't," Hermione groaned. All the heads turned towards her. Since his attempt at raping me and being banned from social functions in which Blair is present, Macnair has not reached out to me at all. We only know that he is determined to reveal my identity, there is no evidence of the fact."

"Hermione I think Theo has a point," Thorfinn's deep voice rumbled. "I don't think we need proof per say, to gain sympathy. If you were to simply confide in a few of the lords, and say how afraid you are of him, how angry he was when he was caught violating you, I'm almost certain it would elicit the lords to act."

"Well I'm willing to try. How do you suggest? Not another dinner party I hope."

"No," Daphne and Pansy said at the same time.

"You have already hosted too many dinner parties lately," Daphne pressed on. "What you need is an outing, somewhere that others are sure to be seen and where you can encounter them."

"Exactly. I hear that the Russian Wizarding Ballet is coming to Diagon alley next week. As a native to the mother country Dolohov is sure to attend, and his comrades will more than likely follow his example?"

Hermione was starting to feel as though her life was becoming similar to that of an 18th century socialite. Dinner parties, galas and upper class evening entertainment galore. It made her sick to her stomach how old fashioned the traditions and the mannerisms of the wizarding world really were. Never the less, she had to accept it and conform if she was to keep up appearances.

With a heavy sigh, she replied. "Fine. Finn and I will attend as well." She felt more than the she heard his resounding scoff of indignation. She placated him with a squeeze to the hand.

"It's very formal," groused Pansy, to which Hermione sent her coldest smile. "Fine, fine I'll leave your dress up to you."

"Thank you Pansy." The others laughed.

"I think this is all we'll be able to settle for now. I think perhaps we should retire for the evening," Thorfinn stated. The group departed through the floo for their own residences, and soon Hermione and Thorfinn were alone in the quiet library. They relaxed, cuddled by the fire, wrapped in each other' arms, their fears forgotten for a while by the comfort they found in the moment.


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: Hey Readers! I'm sorry for keeping you all waiting for so long on this update. I decided last minute to participate in NanoWriMo this past year and that took up almost all of my free-time in November. Then December kept me busy as well. On the bright side I'll have a new story to post in the near future. In any case, I'm back now and hopeful that I can keep to and update schedule and wrap this story up sooner rather than later. Enjoy, and as always thank you so much for your words of encouragement and kind feedback as well as your support.**

* * *

The fire dwindled down to embers in the library when she lifted her head slightly from the warm, comfortable chest of her lover. Thorfinn's steady breathing lifted his torso up and down seamlessly as he slumbered. Hermione's lips curved into a smile as she watched him sleep. He had been a light sleeper as of late. The constant threats that surrounded her, them both really, had him on edge almost all of the time. It was rare that she woke before he did and despite the early morning hour she planned to enjoy the sight. It was to her immense disappointment short lasting. Before long, Finn inhaled sharply and groggily opened his eyes.

"Little witch," he mumbled his voice drowsy from sleep. "What time is it?"

"It's early. Not dawn yet," Hermione answered. "We fell asleep in the library though. We should go to bed." Her wizard suddenly seemed to realize that the way their bodies intertwined she was straddling him. He seemed to wake fully and smirked at her.

"To sleep?" He queried. "Cause if you keep wiggling like that princess there isn't going to be a whole lot of sleeping going on." Hermione whacked his arm playfully and moaned slightly at the suggestion. The sound awoke the large wizards libido and the rest of him rose to the occasion. Despite having stopped moving around on his lap, Hermione could feel the evidence of his arousal poking her, right at her clothed core. She breathed in a ragged gasp and whined softly in appreciation.

"I figured so that you could get more sleep, comfortably," she whispered her voice tender and oozing desire.

"You like the sound of the other idea more though don't you?" Finn grinned wickedly at her, eyes blazing with lust. Hermione only nodded. "Very well then Princess," Thorfinn stated and in the next instant cupped her arse in his hands and stood up from the sofa holding her against him. With effortless ease and a fair deal of haste, he strode in the direction of their bedroom, carrying her to the massive bed and laying her on it. Before she could sit up and beckon to him his lips sought hers and their tongues met and tangled in the searing kiss.

Only the kiss didn't last long. At least not on her lips. No, Thorfinn decided quickly as he climbed atop his witch that he would rather love to savor her. So, he was soon trailing kisses down her jawline, to her neck, and then to her breasts. In one fluid motion, he ripped apart her dress and bared her twins to him. Drawing one nipple into his mouth he lavished attention there and not one to neglect fondled the other with gentle pinches. His witch writhed beneath him arching her back to press more fully into his embrace. He pushed her back down and shushed her whine and he receded further down her body. He teasingly kissed his way down until he was comfortably situated with his head between her soft, pliable thighs.

Bringing his hands up he tugged down her lace knickers and then reaching up to her knees he wretched her legs apart and appraised the beautiful sight.

"Your pussy is so wet," he commented. "Is it all for me?" As he prosed the question he circled her clit with his thumb, and then pulled back abruptly.

"Fuck!" His witch exclaimed. "Yes, it's yours."

"My, My. Somebody's needy."

"Finn Please!" She begged and he grinned wickedly.

"As you wish Princess." He spread her open with his thumb and index finger and leaned in to lightly lap at the arousal that pooled there. Sweet Salazar, she tasted like the nectar of the gods. Hermione mewled at the tender caress and Thorfinn began to eagerly lick her thrusting his tongue in and out of her. As he suckled her, he rubbed her clit and brought her to the edge of glory if her panting and moaning was any indication. When he was certain she was on the cusp of breaking he traded places with he mouth and hands. His fingers plunged into her depths and his mouth sucked hard on her clit.

His witch screamed as she came. "Thorfinn!" She wasn't even recovered before he pounded into her with a vengeance. He needed this; his cock rock hard from the taste of her. He brought Hermione to another orgasm quite quickly after her previous one and as her tight satch clamped around his cock he too spent himself inside of her. Sated he collapsed over her. Moments later he shifted them so she was sprawled across his chest and hiked the quilt over them. He was still buried inside of him when sleep lulled them both into it's inky, black depths.

* * *

Hermione was surprised to find that although there was much to do with the wedding plans yet Pansy decided to give it a rest. Aside from a brief owl from the dark-haired witch explaining that she would make herself available for assistance with dressing for the upcoming ballet, there had not been a peep from her in the past two days since the tense meeting. Hermione had no doubt that her friend was not being idle, certainly, the wedding plans were still going strong just outside of the Rowle family home. Whatever, she was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth and made the most of the relative peace.

It was in the quiet that Hermione considered something that could make or break their plans. "Finn," she hummed the question. His soft grunt from above her was the only response she got. No doubt he didn't appreciate her talking in the middle of what she was doing to him at that moment, "Remind me that I have a question for you when we are finished here." His answering grunt confirmed he received the message and dutifully Hermione set back to her task at hand.

Her hand which had previously been stroking the lengthy erection of her fiance was soon replaced by her mouth. Leaning forward and inhaling his masculine scent she licked the slightly weeping tip before engulfing him into her moist heat.

"Fuck yessss," he hissed as his hands came to rest on her head, his fingers tangling in her hair. Hermione bobbed her head up and down the turgid member careful to sheath her teeth. His sheer size was enough for her to know she couldn't even get close to taking him all so what she couldn't fit she massaged with her hand. Hermione fell into a pattern of fucking him with her mouth. She would take him down as far as she could and ease back repeating the move a couple of times before withdrawing completely and lavishing attention to his head with her tongue. She lapped up all of the precum that leaked from him and revealed in his husky groans. She would stroke his base with her fist and cup his sac in her other palm and oh so gently squeeze and fondle him until she would take his length down her throat once more.

Hermione avoided gagging for the most part. The few times it happened she readjusted her position and avoided taking him so deep again substituting her mouth with her fist. It wasn't long before Finn was lost to the moment and firmly began to lift and lower her head over his own lip as he thrust gently into her eager mouth. As his groaning intensified Hermione knew he was close. She chose that moment to hallow her cheeks and suck him with all of her might before humming as loud as she could with his cock stuffed in her hole. The vibrations seemed to undo him.

"Fuck, I'm coming," He hollered and seconds later was spurting his hot seed down her throat. Dutifully Hermione drank him down until he was spent. Finally, she released his deflated cock with a small pop and laid her head in his lap. She was extremely satisfied with her handiwork as she listened to the soothing sounds of Finn's labored breathing.

Regaining his breath after his witch's antics he untangled his hands from her riotous, magically sparking curls and lifted her up to sit beside him. "That was lovely, princess," he praised. "I believe you have a question for me?" His witch snuggled close to his side and laid her head on his shoulder. Suddenly he realized that whatever was on the witch's mind was serious. He was surprised she hadn't stopped pleasuring him to voice it from the get-go.

"Does MacNair usually attend events like the ballet?"

"Not typically. If there is a very good reason he may make an appearance but it's not his thing. He considers the pub a far more appealing social venue than elite and extravagant parties and events."

"As much as a relief as that is, I think it may work to our advantage if he were there," Hermione expressed eyes wide in earnest and voice heavy and solemn. Thorfinn's teeth bit into the meat of his cheek as he drew in a deep breath as a practice in remaining calm. His features betrayed him. His quirked a brow and steadfast frown bespoke his doubts of the witch's sanity at her suggestion.

"What makes you think that?" he finally huffed.

"Finn, you know I don't want to be anywhere near that monster. However, if we are trying to sway the other lords in our favor, then setting up a situation where he will more likely than not to confront me, well it would help us considerably." Thorfinn closed his eyes in a mixture of agreement and apprehension. Hermione had a point, but at the same time, it was risky. He loathed anything that put his witch in harm's way. However, even he couldn't deny that his brilliant, sweet, bleeding hearted Gryffindor was right.

"Bloody, buggering hell," he groaned and raised a hand to rub his eyes in exasperation. "I often wish that you weren't so logical. It would make it a heck of a lot easier to keep you safe sometimes."

"I know," Hermione sighed. "I wish you could shelter me from this Finn, I do. I want this over, I'm sick of living in the constant fear and waiting for the bomb to drop. If this is what pushes us in the right direction then so fucking be it."

Thorfinn clenched his fists at his side. "Blast it all. If we are going to do this I'd feel a lot better if we ran the idea past Theo and Draco first."

"I agree," Hermione acquiesced. "I'll enlist Pansy to help dress me for the occasion as well."

"I'll send them a bloody owl," Thorfinn ground out rising to his feet. He needed to remove himself from this conversation immediately. The more they talked about the fucking bastard the more he wanted to punch a wall. He never wanted his witch to witness his more violent tendencies. Without another word, he stalked from the room.


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: Hi guys. I'll admit this is a filler chapter but necessary for the plot. I hope you all enjoy and as always Thanks for all of your support.**

* * *

Macnair stumbled out of one of the Knockturn Alley pubs intent on finding the nearest whorehouse and taking out some of his frustrations on one of the so called ladies of the night. However the massive wizard's plans were halted by the arrival of a brown barn owl carrying a letter. The damned bird flew directly into him and he raised his wand to curse it when it hooted at him and extended it's foot towards him. He paused, wand still pointed, to see the letter addressed to him in handwriting he did not recognize. Because of the bloody bitch Rowle was hiding he had fallen so far out of favor with the other Lord's that none bothered to write him. That of course begged the question of who was writing him now. He ripped the folded parchment from the creature roughly and as if sensing the danger the owl flew off into the night.

Macnair unfolded the letter and read the contents, a slow, lecherous grin spreading across his face. Out of favor with his comrades he may be but with their progenies perhaps not. It seemed that Zabbini recognized that the fact that the power holders running the country were perilously close to running the Wizarding world to the ground. For them to turn their backs on him when he was doing all within his power to expose the real traitor before them and the little whore that wormed her way into his good graces...

Would he forgive them when the groveled on his feet when he was proved victorious? Perhaps, perhaps not. He certainly couldn't kill all of them. Despite the recent laziness and blindness of his brethren they did each have skills that proved useful. Malfoy however, the grand prat that reduced him to his current state and his good for nothing son would be made examples of. First, he had to rise to power an actually achieve exposing the witch for who she really was. The key to this was currently clenched firmly in his grip. Zabbini had interesting information indeed. It seemed there was a coup in progress, the traitor planned to overthrow Minister Malfoy and the current regime. The best part was Zabbini claimed to be in on it, as far as the group was concerned. He was spying and willing to report back the information for a price. As a gesture of good faith he included his suspicions that there was something off about Rowle affianced, and the tidbit that said witch would be attending the Russian Ballet this coming weekend.

"Incendio," he hissed under his breath and watched as the piece of paper crumbled into nothing more than ash. Forget the whorehouse, he had planning to do.

* * *

The day they would attend the ball arrived quicker than Hermione wanted and she was a bundle of nerves when a former enemy turned close friend appeared through the floo in the foyer of Rowle mansion.

"Hello Pansy," Hermione greeted as she paced the marble floor.

"You look a wreck. I see we've got our work cut out for us," The brunette witch muttered in reply. Hermione shot her a nasty scowl before accepting the reality of the situation. She led her friend from the foyer up the stairs and into her bedroom. Pansy opened the double doors to the wardrobe and let out an impressive squeal of glee the exact moment Thorfinn walked through the door.

"Uh Hermione,' He began before he noticed the presence of the Slytherin witch. Seeming to think better of whatever he had come to say Thorfinn grimaced. "Never mind, I'll ask you later." he said kissing Hermione briefly before he quickly fled the room. Pansy ignored the Viking like wizard and began digging through the clothes before her. Without looking back she began shooting orders at Hermione.

"You, go take a shower now!" Hermione glanced to the door to the loo and the door her affianced had just vacated. She left swiftly through the same one and while intending to obey the command she was issued, decided that Pansy didn't tell her where or how she should shower. She located her wizard and grinned at him seductively before pulling him into her old chambers and into the bathroom.

"I've been told to shower," She explained. "I was hoping you would keep me company." Thorfinn raised his eyebrows before he began to shed his clothing. Hermione made short work of her own and together they stepped into the hot spray, touching and fondling between kisses. He made a show of actually cleaning her, shampooing and conditioning her hair as well as soaping up her entire body. Instead of reciprocating, Hermione sank to her knees and licked the tip of his now erect cock, before slowly drawing it between her lips. She was rewarded with his deep groan however the moment was ruined when only seconds later the shrill, shrieking voice of Pansy Parkinson was heard from the other side of the door.

"Granger, When I told you to shower you know full well this isn't what I meant." Hermione flushed thanking all the gods she could think of that Pansy hadn't thrown open the shower doors and revealed their current position. She made to pull away from Finn only for his rough hand to press firmly against the back of her head holding her in place.

"Parkinson," He growled, "Hermione's busy right now, I'll send her out when we've finished."

"Ten Minutes Rowle. Ten minutes or I'll come in and drag her out myself," Pansy huffed in undisguised frustration. Thorfinn didn't respond and as Hermione resumed sucking they heard the click of her heels leaving the room. Ten minutes was generous as it turned out. Thorfinn decided to fuck Hermione's mouth as 'punishment' for her having attempted to stop in the middle of things. It took only ten or so thrusts for him to reach his climax. He spent the remaining eight minutes brining Hermione off.

Hermione sauntered out of the bathroom shooting one last sassy smirk to her still naked fiancé before she reluctantly left to return to be tortured with cosmetics by her friend. Pansy had her hands on her hips and a mean glower planted on her face when Hermione entered her bedroom.

"Well," she said icily "I see that he at least did a thorough job of washing you while you fooled around." Hermione gave her a half apologetic look.

"He was the only one who could ease my nerves about tonight."

"Blaise agreed to play at double agent then?" Pansy asked choosing to drop the other subject.

"He did," Hermione replied. "He was reluctant to at first but ultimately agreed this was for the best. I'm just not sure why the boys felt leaking our coup to our worst enemy was wise."

"It isn't wise. It's insane, but I see the benefits of it as well. With Macnair even more suspicious, he'll be more likely to show up and confront you."

"I know that, I'm just scared," Hermione explained. Pansy smiled as reassuringly as she was able before silently charming Hermione's glamoured hair into an elegant up do. Hermione had to admit that it was a heck of a lot easier to fix a hairdo with her alter ego's silky locks rather than her own frizzy mane.

"I found a dress that will go perfectly for the ballet tonight," Pansy mentioned as she began playing around with a host of magical make-ups and smothering them all over Hermione's face.

"Should I be afraid?" Hermione shot the question playfully.

"No actually," Pansy laughed. "I rather think you would approve of this one."

"That is a relief." It took a while for them to be satisfied with her appearance. Pansy first three attempts were completely vetoed by Hermione who, despite going around as Blair, thought it was far too trashy. Since making friends with the Slytherin witches she went to school with Hermione had come a long way in putting on her face so to speak. However, they still had to be believable and through the many dinner parties Hermione had done her own make-up Pansy's creations were far too heavy.

"Alright," Pansy began as they finally compromised. "Walk me through the plan tonight," she demanded as Hermione assessed her look in the mirror. Her eyes were designed in a smokey look with dark grey and purple eyeshadow paired with black liner and mascara. They had skipped foundation and blush and settled on a light pink lip gloss so that her eyes stood out but she didn't appear super fixed up.

"Finn and I are going to arrive at the ballet moments early and casually bump into Dolohov who has a private box. Hopefully he will offer us seats with him. At intermission we will leave the box to mingle with some other acquaintances of Finn's and I will be my charming self with the Lords while Finn fetches us some drinks. As he does I will no doubt catch sight of Macnair and act nervous while mentioning how uncomfortable he makes me."

"Good," Pansy acknowledged. "What about the confrontation?"

"After the Ballet as we are getting ready to leave I'm to run to the ladies room and as I'll be on my own more than likely confronted by Macnair. When that occurs I'm to put on a show, though I don't know how much pretending will actually be involved, of being visibly shaken and upset drawing attention to us. Finn will then enlist the help of the others to rescue me."

"The plan does sound rather like a plot out of a bad novel doesn't it?" Pansy sneered.

Hermione giggled. "It does, doesn't it? I suppose I'm not so good at putting it into words, It will be far more effective in reality."

"No doubt," Pansy replied. "I will be at the ballet as well and by chance happen to pass by as Finn is restraining Macnair and come over to assist you."

"I hope this all goes according to plan," Hermione muttered.

"It will, don't worry. Now, let's get you into the dress," Pansy comforted as she drew out the elegant gown from the wardrobe. It was a beautiful shade of mint green made of lace covered silk that fell down to her ankles. The neckline plunged to reveal just a hint of cleavage. One shoulder and arm were left completely open as only one sleeveless strap would secure the dress on her left shoulder.

"Pansy that is stunning," Hermione gasped wondering where the witch had found that in her closet.

"I told you would approve," The brunette replied. A few pieces of simplistic jewelry brought the whole look together and before long Hermione was ready for her first wizarding Ballet. Her awe at how she looked eased her nervousness for the events that laid ahead. Pansy made a snarky goodbye before flooing to her own home leaving Hermione to seek out her handsome wizard.


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: It's been too long, I know. Don't Kill me please.**

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Hermione nervously twitched in her seat, wringing her hands even as she tried to focus on the beautiful movements and dancing on the stage. The first act was coming to an end and intermission was fast approaching. Despite the lovely performance and haunting melodies from the orchestra Hermione couldn't help herself from dwelling on what was about to go down instead of being able to enjoy the production. Finn had tried, and failed, to calm her initially but had given awhile ago when nothing he said or did worked. The tall and handsome wizard had no clue that, though it did not show outwardly, his reassurances were helping Hermione's bravery.

When the curtains closed on the first act the couple drew in a deep breath before making their way from the private box they were utilizing. It took mere moments to bump into Dolohov who was unaccompanied by either of his new wives, and Rabastan Lestrange. Both wizards eyed her in her dress with undisguised appreciation.

"Blair," Antonin drawled with a slight Russian lisp. "You look exquisite tonight." Hermione smiled politely at his praise as Lestrange roared boisterously in agreement.

"Excuse me Gentlemen, Finn darling, I am going to step away a moment." Finn nodded absently, for sake of appearances, and she knew it was her cue to get the ball rolling. She stepped away from the comforting side of her fiancé and one true love and walked off in the direction of the ladies room eyes scouting for any sign of Macnair. Putting on a show of powering her nose and freshening up, Hermione counted the seconds until she emerged. Five minutes total and she exited the restroom. She briefly glanced around again and spotted the brutish wizard who starred in her worst nightmares. Unfortunately her eyes met his and while part of the plan, Hermione was wrecked with terror as he began a slow saunter in her direction. Refusing to be a deer caught in the headlights, Hermione turned in the opposite direction as if she were heading back to her group. She sensed more than she saw Macnair pick up his pace.

"Not so fast Whore," he groused as his massive hand clenched tightly around her upper arm in a painful grip. He pulled her towards the wall. "You don't get to avoid me forever."

"Why won't you leave me alone? What have I ever done to you?" Hermione pleaded on script with the wizard, however, the tears of fright and discomfort were far from faked. Several onlookers paused in their places and turned towards them but other than gawking made no movement to interfere.

"You have some nerve even asking that you stupid bitch," He tightened his hold on her to a near unbearable pressure and she struggled to get away from him. Completely unexpected, though he was so unhinged she really ought not to have been surprised, Macnair reared his hand back and slapped her across her face. Hermione's head bent to the side from the force of the blow and searing hot pain invaded her senses. Unknowingly, her free hand floated up to hold her cheek. Despite her pain Hermione was grateful. Macnair had unwittingly helped her cause immensely completely by his own actions. What followed was not part of the plan, but aided it none the less.

"Hey!" Yelled several outraged voices from the crowded hallway as several wizards rushed Macnair, and pulled him away from Hermione. Jostled from the sudden rush of bodies Hermione didn't notice the sudden approach of her friend until the shrill, screeching voice shouted over the rumble of voices around her.

"Merlin Hermione, are you alright?" Pansy gushed as she pushed through the crowd towards her. Upon reaching the other witch the dark haired beauty wrapped her arms around her and engulfed her in a hug. Hermione burst into very real tears at the exact moment, the façade only all too real and overwhelming. Apparently sensing her inability to answer Pansy directed her next question at the assembled crowd. "Would anyone like to bloody well tell me what just happened here?"

There was no reply, at least not to Pansy. The mob was too focused on restraining and shouting curses and furious words at Macnair. Raising her voice even more, though Hermione didn't think it possible, Pansy bellowed. "Or perhaps you lot would like to explain to Head Auror Rowle what has transpired with his betrothed. Start talking now!"

A sudden hush fell over the crowd, apparently none present realized just who's witch was assaulted. Finally, one wizard spoke as calmly as he possibly could, though there was no disguising his disgust. "This vermin here had the audacity to strike her. Not sure what she was doing with another wizard if she is engaged but no witch deserves that treatment."

Hermione gasped at the open accusation. She opened her mouth to reply to the insult but was interupted by the arrival of Finn and his posse. "I daresay you did not just insinuate that my fiancé was stepping out on me?"

"I, uh, no offense intended Master Rowle," the wizard coward back as he stuttered. Finn ignored him.

"Pansy what happened here?"

"I didn't witness it but was able to ascertain that Macnair assaulted Blair by striking her Thorfinn. I don't know what led up to the attack." Before Finn could respond or even react to the admission, Dolohov's wand hand was raised and a violent hex was soaring towards the Macnair.

"Why would he have cause to attack our delightfully charming Blair?" Muttered Lestrange. Hermione recognized the opening to hook the wizards to their side and, still holding her cheek, summoned her voice.

"I fear that Macnair has some agenda for me, he has made it his life mission to make my life hell. I was unfortunate enough to be caught wandering alone when he encountered me."

"How long has this been going on?" Hissed Dolohov.

"A long time," sighed Finn. "He thinks I'm hiding something and has placed his suspicions on Blair since I introduced her. You're aware of an earlier encounter where the minister apprehended him firsthand, but what you don't know is he hasn't stopped threatening Blair since then."

"Fuck," swore Dolohov as Lestrange simply shook his head. "Why didn't you tell us Rowle?"

"I asked him not to. I hoped we could deal with the problem ourselves." Hermione said. Finn stood in front of her and gently removed her hand from her cheek to assess the damage. Macnair still struggled in the hold of the five unknown wizards.

"Well," Lestrange spoke up, "apparently you couldn't. Rowle, we will meet you later to discuss this properly over a good whiskey and no audience. Antonin and I will deal with that while you take your witch home. Pansy, care to assist?" Pansy never one to turn down an opportunity to inflict damage on deserving filth nodded once. Finn, saying nothing in return put his hand on the small of her back and led Hermione from the opera house and towards the apparition point.


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N: Hey guys, Thanks again so much for all of your reviews. I know updates are rather slow moving, I have a lot going on in Real life right now so I appreciate your continued support and patience. Enjoy the next chapter.**

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His witch was shaking in his arms when they landed in the safety of the Library in Rowle Mansion. Finn didn't know if he could speak such was his rage at what transpired that evening. It was a conscious effort just to avoid setting something ablaze from the force of his uncontrollable anger. The plan had spiraled so far from the intended path tonight and Hermione, his beautiful, strong, intelligent witch, had been hurt because of it. That had never been his intention. Now she was looking up at him, despite her unimaginable strength to prevail, with a fragile expression that made him want to beat Walden Macnair to a pulp. It turned out he didn't need to say anything to Hermione.

"I'm okay Finn," she whispered softly. "Or, I will be at any rate." Instantly, Thorfinn was reminded of her incredible threshold for dealing with shit. Her resilience astounded him because if their positions were reversed he was pretty sure he would have curled up in a ball and closed himself away from the world by now. Hermione was a Gryffindor, and certainly had the attributes f her house, though she surpassed every other Gryffindor he had ever known.

"I know," he choked back a sob. "I know little witch. I just wished you didn't have to be. This shouldn't have happened in the first place."

"I'll admit things didn't go as planned, but bottom line reached the goal we intended," She reasoned calmly. Thorfinn didn't share her sentiment but declined to comment. As he was about to fetch a cool cloth for Hermione when Moppy popped into the room. The elf gasped in horror when she caught sight of Hermione's quickly bruising cheek.

"Moppy fetch ice and dittany for missy's face," she squeaked before disappearing with a small pop.

"Honestly I think I could use Whiskey more than ice right about now," Hermione muttered. It was rare that his witch drank the heavy spirits typically preferring wine, but after the way, the night had gone he could use a glass himself.

"Why don't you make yourself comfortable and I'll get us some?" She smiled at him brightly and he crossed the room to the liquor cabinet and poured them two fingers each. hen he returned Moppy was placing a dittany soaked cloth full of ice to Hermione's cheek.

"You holds this here missy for no less than fifteen minutes."

"Thank you Moppy," Hermione replied gently to the elf. "I promise I'll keep it in place."

"Good missy," Moppy squeaked before once again leaving and giving the couple space. With her free hand Hermione took the proffered glass of amber liquid and slowly sipped it. Thorfinn, on the other hand, knocked it back in one gulp before lifting his witch and sitting on the sofa with her on his lap. He tucked an arm around her waist and rested his chin on her head.

"I love you Finn," she said eventually.

"I love you too witch. I don't know what I'd do if you were taken away from me."

"Don't worry about such things. I'm not going anywhere. I've got you to protect me," Hermione attempted to reassure unsuccessfully. Thorfinn did not feel like much of a protector when he saw the bruises on her face, knowing he put her into a situation that ended up with her getting hurt. Hermione, sensing that her words were not enough, burrowed her face into her wizard's neck and pressed a kiss just above his shoulder.

"I think it won't be much longer until Lestrange and Dolohov show up, Princess. If you want to rest, I can handle them."

"No," Hermione said. "I'll stay, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I mean you don't need to put on a brave face tonight, nobody would think less if you rested."

"Thorfinn," Hermione sighed in exasperation. "I'm not leaving. Now, On a scale of one to ten how well do you think our plan worked?" Thorfinn pushed her away just far enough so he could look at her with a pointed, glum expression."

"Are you seriously asking me that right now? I'd say it bloody well failed spectacularly judging by how it ended with you being punched in the face."

"Shush," Hermione scolded and put her finger against his lips. "That isn't what I meant and you know it. We've already established that our plan didn't go accordingly, but the outcome may have benefited us even more."

"How?" Thorfinn grumbled.

"Well... it seems that despite their rather long list of flaws that they don't take kindly to violence against Women. Though I suppose that does surprise me a bit based on how Dolohov's wives appeared at that awful dinner. In any case, they were outraged at Macnair's audacity to hit me, and I think that does play to our advantage."

"I remain unconvinced, but if you are so certain we can play this out. Though I caution you to be careful, these are dangerous men."

"You think I don't know that? I spent the past four years of my life running from these people, yourself included, in fear of my life. I know only too well what the dangers are."

"Shhh, they are here, the wards tingled," Thorfinn interjected swiftly. As much as he would like to comment on her remark and hidden resentment, he couldn't without blowing their cover.

"Master, Lords Lestrange and Dolohov here to see you," Mipsy said as she repapered in the library. The elf looked over at Hermione, still holding the ice pack to her face and nodded in satisfaction vanishing it all. "Yous is looking better Missy."

"Thank you Mipsy," Hermione replied. "Please show the Lord's up." Thorfinn prepared more whiskey in preparation of their guests and moments later the two dark-haired wizards emerged through the double doors to the library. Hermione felt the cool stare are Dolohov on her and shuddered slightly.

"Thorfinn," Rabastan greeted with a nod, accepting the glass of amber liquid and passing one to Dolohov. Several seconds passed in silence before Dolohov finally spoke.

"So Rowle, how long did you expect to keep us in the dark on the fact that you are harboring Hermione Granger in your house?" Hermione inhaled sharply and locked eyes with the piercing blue gaze of Finn across the room.


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: Thanks everybody for all of the reviews. Here is the next chapter, hope you enjoy.**

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Hermione did her best to remain stoic in expression but she felt Finn stiffen behind her switching quickly into a defensive stance. "I don't know what you are talking about Dolohov," her affianced growled lowly. Hermione sighed, knowing his denial was futile. This could be very bad for them but for some reason Hermione didn't get a sense of danger. As she was deciding what to do next the dark haired Russian rolled his eyes.

"I've suspected for some time you know. Macnair is many things but a complete idiot isn't one of them. The fact that he wasn't letting go of his belief told me that he was in fact on to something."

"Finite," Hermione breathed softly and shuddered as the glamours faded from her. "It's done, Finn. They know," she said softly and reached a hand up to cup his cheek. Then she turned to face the wizard who featured in some of her darkest nightmares and memories. "Do what you want with me, but leave him be. He was only protecting me at my own request."

Thorfinn gasped and clutched her tightly to him about to refute her statement when Rabastan laughed from the corner of the room.

"Always such a brave Gryffindor. For the brightest witch of her age I would think you would know we don't mean you any harm by now," The chocolate haired wizard explained after his fit of laughter died down.

"If we did," Dolohov went on, "you think we wouldn't have done something to thwart your little band of merry rebels by now?"

"What do you want then?" Thorfinn questioned fiercely as her pushed Hermione behind him intent on protecting her.

"To join you. This regime is complete and utter madness and I'm sick and tired of keeping up pretenses to blend into it. You think I haven't seen your disgusted looks when you see my lovely wives? Their bruises are glamour's, ones they agreed to so I could protect them. Anything you've witnessed me do wasn't forced upon them."

"I've seen you beat The redheaded one," Thorfinn spat.

"Hannah is a sweet and loyal girl," Dolohov said fondly, "She insisted that such dramatics were necessary to keep up the pretense and keep Luna and her in my keeping. You think that as soon as you were gone I wasn't holding her and healing her? What kind of a monster do you think I am?"

"I've seen you do much worse than that Antonin," Thorfinn replied darkly, "in fact I see the scars you left on my own witch." To her surprise Antonin ignored him and turned to her.

"I regret my action that day in the Ministry Miss. Granger," he said. "I have no excuse other than I was half mad from my time in Azkaban and so grateful to be free I felt indebted to Voldemort for his actions, and if serving him meant hurting children the so be it. I've felt only guilt since the curse left my wand and relief that you survived. I hope one day you can forgive me."

"I understand," Hermione said after a moment of speechlessness. "The war caused all of to do things we are not proud of."

"I may not have a wife or a prize of my own but there was someone I cared very much for who was awarded to another, and she was killed as a result," Rabstan offered. "So if you are standing against the shit our depravity brought forth in this new world order, then I'm with you."

"We both are," Antonin stated firmly. Finn eyed the two skeptically, however, Hermione smiled brightly at them.

"I'm glad to welcome you both to the team," she announced.

"Hermione," Finn sighed. "We don't yet know we can trust them." Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

"Antonin, how long have you suspected my true identity?"

"About three weeks since your sudden arrival."

"And you never once shared that suspicion with anyone who meant me harm?"

"Outside of Lestrange there I never told anyone." He affirmed. "I must say that it was quite amusing watching you be the charming, enchanting Miss. Nightshade though. I wonder if it was all an act."

"We can trust the Finn," Hermione stated firmly.

"Fine," the blond Viking like wizard grumbled sulkily. "Take a seat, grab a drink and lets talk then."

"I'm curious to know how the two of you started up together," Rabastan mentioned as her poured himself a glass of fire whiskey. "What's the story there?"

"It's a long story," Thorfinn harrumphed.

"We have time," the other wizard shot back.

"Finn here found me while I was hiding in the muggle world."

"No Princess," Finn interupted. "That isn't where the story begins."

"It is for me," She pouted.

"Then I'll have to do the telling," he insisted. "After one of the regime lordship meetings awhile back I was invited out for drinks with Macnair and Nott. Seeing no way to refuse I accepted. For the next hour I listened while Macnair boasted about his sick plans for Hermione here. So when they were drunk enough I took a look inside Walden's head and learned that he was already stalking her. So the next day I showed up at the Café where she was studying, after having scoped out her flat."

"When I saw him I panicked. I had been being left sick presents, photographs of me around campus and newspaper clipping from the Prophet, at my doorstep. I didn't know who they were from, and when I saw a known death eater I ran through the back exit. Of course, he was anticipating that move and appareted straight into the alley blocking my escape. Before I knew it I was hauled over his shoulder and appareted back to my own flat."

"There I questioned her about the gifts she was receiving and why she was still there and not running. She explained she had nowhere else to go. I told her exactly who was sending her the presents and what he planned for her. Then I offered her my protection. Since she really didn't have another choice she gave me her reluctant trust and came with me." He paused to take a large swallow of his whiskey. "The rest I suppose you know."

"You made her into Blair," Rabastan said with a smirk.

"Umm," Hermione mumbled. "No, at first he wanted to simply hide me away, but realized that the chances someone would stumble into me were too high. So he suggested I consider a new appearance as polyjuice was so limiting as far as lasting. I reluctantly agreed and after combining several factors from different magazine models Blair was born."

"And the charming personality?" inquired Antonin.

"At first, the overt cheerfulness and flirtatious nature was the only way I could mask my disgust and abhorrence of you all. Considering that I wasn't supposed to know any of you such strong emotions would have been suspicious. Believe me it wasn't easy to let go of past events when as far as I was concerned you were all death eaters who would kill me in an instant if you knew who I really was." Silence ensued at her remark so she continued. "Eventually, It became easier as I strated to like you in certain ways. Not MacNair, not Nott, but you both and the minister..."

"You like us huh?' Rabastan teased.

"Don't think for a moment that I've forgotten what each of you fought for, what you beliefs are or were. I did however begin to realize that you weren't all bad. As I said earlier we have all done things we are not necessarily proud of."

"I'm a half-blood," Antonin admitted, "I never believed in the blood purity bullshit. However, it was too late to change allegiance by the time the first war began. I was already in too deep. And after Azkaban, that allegiance was all I knew."

"I only joined the death eaters because Rod did," Rabastan offered. "He joined up at Bellatrix's instance and with the crazy bitch in the house all the time it wasn't exactly possible to stand against them. Besides I wouldn't have survived it I'd been disowned, I am much too fond of my inheritance."

"The war is over now. If you are serious of joining us to make a difference now then I'd be happy to welcome you to our side. What was right and wrong before isn't important, all that matters is making a stand to better our world now," Hermione expressed sincerely.

"Princess," Finn sighed. "If they want to join us it should be a team decision. You may be willing to trust them but the others need to be as well."

"That is fair," Antonin said. "When should we expect a decision."

"I think it's only right if they were at least present to hear the objections or lack thereof Finn," Hermione replied."

"I agree, I'll call the others here tomorrow for dinner. You should join us and we can discuss this then."

"We'll be there," Rabastan accepted. Antonin nodded solemnly.

"Good it's agreed then," Thorfinn concluded. "Now, if you two don't mind Hermione has had a very trying day and I would like to make sure she gets some rest." He dismissed. The two wizards took the hint, downed their glasses of liquor and departed the library and soon after the house.


End file.
